


Madrugada

by thewritingamateur



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1940s, Abuse, Animals, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Broken Bones, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Everyone gets hurt here, F/M, Forced Kissing, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Relationship, Gaslighting, Grooming, Historical, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Innocence, Innuendo, Italian Mafia, Italy, Like REAL slow burn, Naked Female Clothed Male, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Obsessive Behavior, Organized Crime, Original Character Death(s), Politics, Psychological Trauma, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Religion, Religious Discussion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Secret Marriage, Sexual Assault, She done broke her own bones, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, Torture, Underage Character(s), Underage Kissing, Underground Mafia, Violence, Whump, hints of masturbation, mafia, someone gets bitten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 84,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26144899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritingamateur/pseuds/thewritingamateur
Summary: Florence, 1948. Nisha Knight is swept to Italy by her diplomat father to have dealings with Mayor Gasparini, the mayor of Florence. Through the intrigue and guidance of his filmmaker son, she is introduced to a new world of culture, art, and the underground mafia hidden within politics. Nisha finds herself caught in a web of obsession and deceit in years to come as everything she holds dear to her is destroyed at the snap of Arturo Gasparini's fingers.She'll learn the hard way either she's with Arturo, or against him.
Comments: 37
Kudos: 60





	1. Bye Bye Miss Italian Pie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quieta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quieta/gifts).



> I just want to first thank Quieta for the inspiration and encouragement to create this story <3 I hope everyone enjoys!!
> 
> Official tumblr for Madrugada (and my other stories): 
> 
> https://moonlight-drawn-by-dawn.tumblr.com/

"He's following me."

"Who, bunny?"

" _Him_ " Two pairs of eyes turned to the direction of the bar at the other end of the room. Unlike the many male figures standing in smart black suits with their bodies facing away from the young girls, one figure in a cream suit angled his body towards them. Although his features were not clear from the distance, the smoke from his cigar could be seen.

Noticing the stare from the pair, the figure began to walk towards them. Slow but confident footsteps were taken in the bustling room. As he came closer, it was evident that his stare was unwavering towards the raven-haired girl in the wisteria lavender princess gown, her small dusky shoulders exposed beneath the thick locks curled for the evening.

"I would cut an arm just for him to stare me down." The shorter of the pair broke her gaze from the man to look towards her friend with a perplexed stare.

Maria, she was a classmate at her preparatory back home in Grantchester. At school, they were mere acquaintances who would pass one another in the halls without much afterthought. Maria was one of the popular girls who was known by all but only interacted within her station. Her parents were major oil barons located in South America near Panama but required their youngest child to stay within the walls of their Florence home during the summer. It was a pleasant surprise to see a schoolmate around, even if it would be for a short while. The two girls would often hang around the old bridge above the river or head to the local shops just to have somewhere to be.

"I think it's weird. I saw him the other day and he just kept staring. Isn't he older?" The memory of a couple of days before was still fresh in her mind.

~~~

_Her father brought her to Italy on a business trip, getting to know the mayor of Florence now that Italy and England were making amends again after the war finished years before. They were meant to stay until the end of summer, allowing her to explore the city with her friend but be isolated from all else she knew. She was told to not interact too much with the members of the mayor's household, but she was free to roam without causing any trouble._

_Most days she would venture around the ancient home that still held the engravings and statues carved from centuries ago. When in the mood she would take her sketchbook to draw or a book to lay down and read within the garden._

_That day was a sketchbook day, walking along the fountain with the flowers surrounding the ends. Her eyes caught onto one of them, cornflower she believed they were called. Although not needing a particularly rich soil to grow, the flowers were nonetheless vibrant and no petal would be out of place. Her eyes were stuck to the opaque color, fingers reaching out to pluck one away._

_It was an intimate moment, alone with just the girl and flowers enjoying the calmness of the day. It would all be short-lived, the peace she felt at heart._

_Her eyes were closed as she took a step closer to smell the flowers, a smile erupting on her face with the pleasantness filling her up._

_"Magnifico! Una bellezza che profuma la bellezza dei fiori." Her head turned to the voice to her left, brows knotted together at the foreign language spoken to her._

_"Excuse me?" Her attention was entirely focused on the man walking towards her with a small camera at hand. He was cranking the small device in one hand while keeping it steady in the other. Eyes averted at the unwanted attention carried her way._

_She watched his black shoes making swift calculated steps forward, grazing up to his tan slacks and pressed silk shirt buttoned up to his collarbone. Sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, slim but taunt muscles were wrapped up seamlessly, veins protruded out showing strength. There was a sheen gloss of sweat along his neck, going down in one fluid motion to show its hallow frame. She could look beyond his neck, it would show him the mild interest he was able to conjure from her. Attention was focused on his square pocket above his heart, a small string of thread was flickering. Good, an imperfection that gave her momentary ease from his impending closeness._

_Mere inches away from her, the man finally put down his contraption and gracefully bowed his head. "My apologies, I should have realized that such an exquisite beauty like yourself was not a native to our Florence." A step back was taken by the young girl, she wasn't used to the attention. From this first meeting, she could only conclude that he was someone who laid it on thick._

_His eyes were finally in view, the first image that came to mind was the cornflowers right next to her. They were perfect, bright in its harmonious blend of violet and blue. They were unlike anything she'd ever seen before in anyone, ethereal almost. Brightness reflected in his gaze, crinkled with his smile full on display. His full ruby lips framed his straight teeth, a dimple showing on the left side of his face._

_His skin was like a porcelain doll she had once as a child, creamy and smooth unlike her's that was still riddled with youthful bumps. Light brown hair glossed in the sun rays, loose curls piling on his head in a careful messy manner. He was a vision, like an angel. Yes, an angel she thought, pretty and radiant and she wondered if he should be like a forbidden fruit. Her first impression was skin deep, detracting from his odd demeanor in taping her alone._

_His words were kind, but a promise was held in his tone._

_At first instinct she took another step back, not knowing who he was or how he entered into the mayor's household._

_His eyes raked over her body, from her bow-tied hair to her rose gingham dress, white knee-highs finishing down to her pretty white heels clicking together._

_"Did a cat catch your tongue?" Even his English came off smooth beyond his accented voice. Shaking her head, she held her sketchbook in a hand behind her, clutching it tightly._

_"My father said I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." Her voice was not confident as before, her own soft voice holding an acquired English accent from living there all those years._

_"Ahh, I see. Well, that's too bad. I would've loved to meet you, ciccino." His advances did not stop, walking close enough to her for his shoes to touch the tips of her own. His free hand rose to touch her chin, his fingers like feathers against her skin. Her cognac gaze then rose to meet his._

_"I would have enjoyed letting you know how beautiful your eyes are, melting this heart of mine." Her mind was befuddled by the words and actions committed to her, no one was ever so bold the touch her in such a manner. The touch was one that someone gave to a belonging, casual yet delicate in handling._

_The stranger's eyes held onto her curious eyes for some moments longer. His elegant neck craned down to meet her, hand moving down in the slightest to gracefully hold her neck. The hold was not tight nor firm, just limply holding her neck within his slim fingers. "It is good, you listen to your father." His smile that was there once before was suddenly gone, a passive line replaced it. His eyes had an intensity she was not able to gauge in her young mind._

_"Surely you can just tell me your name? I promise it would be our little secret." His hold on her neck tightened ever so slightly, warning set in action. His actions were in direct contrast with his words, like a bittersweet wine numbing the pain of the knife. Her hand rose to touch his, wanting to break free from his hypnotic leer._

_"How about this, I'll say who I am first. This way we will not be strangers anymore, hm?"_

_Suddenly, her placid face was filled with emotion. Slightly chapped lips curled into a mischievous smile, "I guess you'll just have to tell me next time, Signore." Quickly she pulled herself away from his grasp, running away into the abyss of the garden she came to love in the past few weeks being here._

_Although her heart did buzz at the flirtation he gave her way, his actions spoke of different intentions. She knew better than to fall for empty words._

_Over those next few days, she would take notice of the dark figure lurking around the same places she did. If she was in the garden the figure would be mere feet away just staring with the contraption at hand. In the library when she would take a book and read, Angelface (that would be her new nickname for the strange man) would sit close by and although there was a book in his hand she would feel his stare on her form._

_For the most part, she ignored his pretty gaze and focused on her sketches or words on the page. At one point she made efforts to make it known that she was aware of his presence, giving him the ugliest face she could muster as she noticed the dark lens of his tool in her direction. More often than not she would run off when he would come within five feet of her._

_Despite the attention this man gave her, not a word was uttered to her father about it. She didn't want him to regret bringing her to the beautiful, rustic city for the summer. Besides, there was only so much this guy would do before losing interest in her. At least there was hope in her that he would._

~~~

Watching his shiny black and white leather shoes pointed in her direction, the raven-haired girl turned her head away from his direction. The cocktail cubes were suddenly piquing her interest, she picked one up with her fingers not caring if others saw.

"What are two lovely ladies doing all alone and not dancing ?"

Maria was always a smooth talker and it was to the advantage of the latter that she was interested in the man before them. "There are no men to dance with, just boys who don't know one foot from another. We would be lucky to not be tripped over instead of dipped." The tall girl moved closer to Angelface, eyes turning sultry in hopes that he would be the man to ask her on the floor.

"I'm so glad to see you, Signore Gasparini! The last time we saw one another you promised me my first dance. You won't break your promise would you?" A pout was on her face, body leaning towards his dreaming for his hand to encircle her waist to whisk her away.

Despite all the attention he received to his face, the short girl could feel his flowery eyes staring her down. The only thought passing through her was to shove more cubes down her throat. There was nothing more unappealing for a man to see than a girl who ate openly in a sloppy manner. At least that was what many schoolmates told her over the years.

"Of course, you know me to be a man of my word. I will do my best to fulfill your needs." Cognac eyes saw his hand holding onto her friend's, bringing them to his lips to kiss tenderly. The whites of her eyes showed as her stomach churned from the act, what a farce he was putting on! It was obvious to her and him that Maria would not be getting a dance with him that evening.

"Who's the lovely girl beside you? She seems to be a bit...shy around me." Maria turned to the short girl in an afterthought and waved her off absentmindedly. "She's a friend."

"Well, you should have a bit more manners then, how could you just allow your friend, to stand there without knowing anyone besides yourself? You of all people should know the importance of introducing people." He was quick to let go of Maria to turn his attention to the girl.

"Right. Well, Gasparini, you are having the pleasure of meeting a special school friend. This is my bunny, Nisha Knight." Even when using the fond nickname for Nisha the tone in the taller girl's voice dropped a bit, unenthused by the interest her friend was garnering.

His sandy brown hair bounced as he nodded, hand out of his pocket in front of her, "Arturo Gasparini, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Her intention was not to inherently be rude through her actions, she just wanted his attention to stay on her friend as she satisfied her cravings. Now, her fingers were sticky with jelly and her mouth was full. Covering her mouth with stained fingers, she tried to save face with a semi curtsy.

Seeing the silence from her friend, Maria scuffed before facing the older man with a practiced smile, "She's also pleased to meet you, Arty dear." Her eyes went back to Nisha, who only stared at the older man, hand still covering her mouth as she looked straight at Arturo, glancing at his open hand for a moment before turning back to the buffet for more of the dessert. Her amber eyes went rigid seeing the rude notions from her mate, how could she be so callous to THE Arturo Gasparini, son of the beloved mayor of Florence Vincenzo Gasparini?

Realizing the young girl was not going to reciprocate his gesture, Arturo dropped his hand to the side.

Swallowing the rest of the food, she mustered up a smile similar to the one she showed him weeks before. The one full of mischief and mirth as she laced her fingers behind her.

Blue eyes held onto the reddish-brown eyes before them, gauging what should be the next step in acquiring the hand of the girl before him.

There was no secret of how lascivious he could be with women, usually, he was able to get away with his handsome face and charismatic words. He took a couple of steps closer to Nisha, closing the gap and pushing Maria further away.

Maria would have complained or attempted to draw back attention to herself, but another neighboring boy came to ask for a dance. Graciously she accepted, taking a hold of his hand with her white glove covered fingers as she was lead to the dance floor. Even with the attention given to her from one man to the next for three consecutive dances, her eyes did not fail to draw back to the duo she left earlier.

Jealously plagued her mind seeing her object of affection infatuated by another, the quiet outsider no less. Maria watched with white knuckles as the tall man's hand was making ways to touch the young girl, every time met with failure.

She could remember how her older sister would fawn over Arturo for years on end. At first, he would show interest, flirting smoother than the silk he would sleep in. Overtime his promises of courtship and romantic gestures to her were broken by such small indiscreet details and coincidences. It seemed that he never once planned to keep his words at all. If Maria wasn't smart she may have not realized that she too was being pulled in this endless cycle of intangible promises and marrying a man she would hate, just like her sister. 

She would be damned before allowing another to take his sights away from her too. 

Maria watched the interaction, it was a game of cat and mouse. He would come close and she would scurry away. It wasn't long before her friend decided to take her leave and walk to an unknown destination. Amber eyes followed the blue gaze looking at the short girl, shoulders slightly hunched forward. After the third dance, she excused herself and took confident strides back to the direction of the table, watching the smartly dressed man with determination at the forefront.

Now was her chance.

As her cream heels made strong contact with the glossy floor and her baby blue dress swayed along her slim hips, her eyes struggled to carry the same optimism from moments before. Maria watched the cheshire cat smile wipe away from his ruby lips, a dullness replacing the fleeting glee in his eyes. In his hand was a glass of champagne which was downed in seconds as he turned in her direction. 

The glee never came back in his eyes. 

"It seems that you are the belle of the ball with many standing in line for you. Maybe there are more men around than you think." 

Taking a breath, she painted a coy smile on her brick red lips. "Of course you would say that to make me feel better. Do you know where Nisha went?" 

His response came out half-hearted using his finger to point in the opposite direction, "I believe she wanted to get some fresh air. The poor girl knows nothing about these parties. You should comfort her since she is your guest." 

"She is not my guest, for all I care she could stay in those weeds." It did bring a sharp pain to her heart to speak about Nisha in that way, they became close in these last few weeks. She was a quiet but nice girl, and they held the same interest in music and mythology. All her life her mother made it clear that no one should get in the way of a potential arrangement. If this was always meant to hold true, why did it damper her spirits to say such words?

Maria squared her shoulders to keep up her cold farce against her friend, blue eyes looked to her in amusement. She feared that he saw through her actions, but there was nothing said to prove her assumption. 

Arturo turned away from her quickly, putting the glass on the table beside him, "I'm afraid I must bid you goodnight. It's been a long day and I need some time to myself." 

A slim hand tugged onto his silk suit, "Wait. What about the dance you promised me? Are you going to break your promise again?" Mist began to obscure her view, water becoming abundant in her tear ducts. 

In a gentle manner, he removed her wound up fingers off of his suit, kissing her hand before keeping a light grip. "I do not break promises. You know me, dear Maria, I always do my best to keep my word. Unfortunately, I must leave now. Have a lovely evening."

Just like that, he walked away. She watched with tears as he walked towards the open doors of the grand hall of his home. He suddenly paused for a moment, slowly watching either side before changing his route.

Disbelief crossed her mind watching him go in the direction of the gardens. What exactly was Arturo planning? A disquieting chill ran through her, but before she could take a step further a hand stopped her tracks. 

It was another young man asking her to dance, who was she to say no? 

~~~

"I see that cat caught your tongue again." Curls bounced as Nisha turned behind her. A grimace line was placed on her lips hearing that voice yet again. Did he not know when to give up? 

When Maria left her alone with Mr.Gasparini to dance she was nervous seeing the delight in his eyes. He was smooth to keep her in conversation long enough to distract her from his closeness, a finger shy of touching her bare shoulder before she nearly knocked the table down. He kept asking her for a dance.

_("I don't believe that's a good idea. As you can tell I would only make us look foolish if I accidentally knock us down." That only made his eagerness grow, catching hold of her small wrist pulling her back to him._

_"Not to worry. You need a well-versed partner like myself to hold you tight and guide you through the dancefloor." )_

A quick thought passed her mind wondering if others were watching his actions if anyone would tell him to stop. 

It was when he was close to her lower back as he cornered her on the edge of the pink laced covered table that Nisha had come up with a plausible excuse to leave his presence. Running off to the powder room to wash her hands seemed to be the right response, regret seeped through as the slime on her fingers left a small stain on her pretty dress. Even when she scurried off it was out of second nature to turn and watch his magnetic eyes watch her, drinking her figure in a way she was too young to understand. 

It was from an impulse that Nisha decided to head into the garden. It was beautiful with the full moon shining on the flowers, the fountain glittered in the reflection of its surroundings. 

She only wondered how he found out about her quick escape. With hands clean, she clutched her dress on both sides as she gave a full turn in his direction. There was no reason to run this time, at least that was what she told herself to build up some courage. 

"I hope it would let go soon. Maybe I could get a turn to catch you and keep your pretty voice." Her chin pointed up as she straightened her shoulders, staying in place as his shoes met her own. 

He brought his strong fingers up into her hair, combing out the set curls that had taken hours to perfect. Several strokes were made but not one sound was heard from her painted lips. His eyes did not change, amusement did not fill his eyes but rather he seemed mesmerized as the moonlit on her dark hair. 

"Your hair looks better wild, free. You should not follow your friend too much, all her advice can only be applied to a girl like her." 

"What, a girl who is pretty and rich?" His grin only grew finally hearing her voice so defiant. 

"No. A girl who only seeks a man for money and has men who only see the vanity." Nisha was unable to hold onto his intense gaze any longer, her eyes drifted to the fountain with water spouting out from the cherub. 

She was going to walk away, that was until his fingers left her hair to lightly claw onto her chin. Eyes were refocused onto his blue ones once more. His face was too close even though there was already the height disparity separating them. She could feel the cold marble against her legs as she moved out of instinct, a curse sprang to her mind quick to call out her failure. 

"Although you are kind sir, _I_ decide how to have my hair. The only man to say otherwise would be my father." Twisting to her left, she was successful in getting away in his momentary disbelief. With her back turned to him again she smiled as her heels began to walk in the direction of the party. She would just have to look at the flowers in the night another time. 

"Ahh, there you go again using your father as your excuse." Furrowing her eyebrows, she felt dizzy as she made another turn back to him, now his hands were in his pockets. Instead of staying in place, her body hypnotically moved toward him. What did he mean by excuse? 

"Your father would not always be around to protect you. Besides, he isn't the only man who could tell you how to do things." 

An amused eyebrow rose as she gave off a scoff, "And who's that?" 

"Why, myself. Arturo Gasparini as your friend mentioned earlier, not sir."

Any glee she had from the evening was knocked out of her with the bold intent from his words. As quick as he was to make the statement, laughter erupted from his sensual lips.

Confused she found herself moving back, almost finding herself in the bush of thorny roses.

That would have been painful if Arturo was a second slower in pulling her onto him. The force caused them both to fall onto the cold stone floor. His hands stayed fast to her waist, her own finding distance by pushing up on his chest. Their bodies were flushed together, Nisha breathing heavily from the momentary scare.

Catching herself and comprehending the compromising position she allowed herself to be a part of, her hands were quick to find the floor to attempt to get up. If her father found her in such a way he would no doubt be mortified.

She was not allowed to get up just yet. Having the upper hand the tall man was quick to use his strength once again, this time turning their bodies so he would be on top of her. 

Instead of light, there were shadows cast onto his angelic face, instantly becoming sinister like the devil in disguise. He leaned closer to her, his hand cupping her cheek lightly.

Arturo's heart started to thump loudly in his ears, breathing quickened looking down at her almond-shaped honey eyes. Dark hair was splayed like a halo framing her small round face, skin soft under his touch. For a moment he was lost, which would be unacceptable in any other circumstance. He couldn't help it, there was just _something_ about her that he was unable to place. 

This was it, she told herself. Now was when all the doom would enter her life at the hands of this handsome but off-putting man. There was a silent war between both, one was bound to win this battle and she was sure it would be her. His eyes were dilated, she knew this was the moment. 

Nisha kicked his shin, to which he gasps in surprise. It gave her enough time to find herself out of his grasp. Her dress was most definitely ruined, but it was alright at least her dignity was intact.

He seemed to have caught himself, a hand going to his shin as he gave off a raspy laugh. "Anche se hai il fuoco dentro, scappi come un coniglio. Sarai il mio dolce coniglietto." Rising to his feet, he dusted off his pants before taking steps towards her, giving out his hand. 

She wanted to know what he said, but even if she asked he may not tell the truth. Her frown was prominent seeing his hand. 

"I won't do anything, I promise. Come, we must not ruin your dress any more than we already have." Nisha took notice that his speech was slower than before, maybe it was hard to go back and forth with the two languages. While she spoke more than one language herself, it was never a problem to jump back and forth. She used her inquisitive thoughts about his skills to willingly accept his hand without wariness and allowing his other hand to rest on her waist to help her balance on her feet. 

A tut escapes his lips watching the torn pieces of her dress, "Such a shame, it was very beautiful. Allow me the honor to buy you a new one." The passive line did not change on her face, enough damage was done tonight.

Taking her left hand, he brought it up to his lips (though she did make it a struggle using what little strength she had left), giving it a tender kiss. 

"I must bid you farewell now. Until next time, Nisha." Heat rose to her cheeks hearing the way her name rolled off his tongue. 

She was left alone in the moonlight, just what she wanted from the beginning. The difference was now her body was shaken from all that had happened with the figure walking away from her. 

Scared was not what she felt, after all that happened fear was not on her mind. Adrenaline pumped in her veins wishing there was some courage to smack off the grin he kept showing. Her hands formed into fists on either side of her, swallowing her anger. What exactly did Maria see in this guy? He was nothing more than a cad playing with emotions. Men like him wanted only one thing, objects to flaunt around. 

Pacing around the fountain for a few minutes, her anger caused a void in her surroundings. 

"-sha! Nisha! Where are you?" Catching herself, she turned to the deep voice of her father.

She ran towards his tall, pale figure. His smiling face morphed to confusion as she came closer.

"What happened to your dress? And your arm! Nisha, are you alright?" Her eyes drifted to her left hand as her father held onto it, turning it to show the big bloody scrape she must have acquired while in the fall with Arturo. Her body was in shock so the pain did not register yet. 

"I'm sorry dad. I fell earlier, tripped over some stone. You know how clumsy I am." Even with her laugh, his stern stare was still there. She wondered why she did not tell the truth about the encounter with Arturo. Her eyes drifted from her father to the bright lights of the ballroom with the many occupants dancing and being merry. There in all the light was a dark figure right outside, smoke rings blown above from what she suspected was a cigar. Not the same one from earlier, but a new one with the embers glowing. 

She was glad for her instincts, they had yet to fail her. 

Her father pulled her bruised body into his embrace, "Come, let's get you cleaned up. I think what we both need is a good cup of tea what do you say?" 

Nisha looked down and smiled, nodding against her father's chest. As they were walking together a familiar chill passed through her going by the bushes and windows. The smell of smoke was prominent in the vicinity. 

Just a couple more weeks. She had to keep reminding herself. Just a couple more weeks till she returned home and could forget all about Arturo Gasparini. 

And she prayed to God it would come quick. 


	2. Shadow of a Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While at church Nisha realizes just how sly Arturo can be, but on an outing with a friend, her resistance to him begins to diminish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thank you for the warm reception! Just wanted to apologize for the Italian translations. If there is anything wrong with it please do feel free to correct me!
> 
> Edit: A huge thanks to Zella11 for correcting my Italian translations, check out her story, Iridium it's a magnificent work of art !!!

Back home in Grantchester, Sundays would go by at a slow but pleasant pace. Mornings were spent in church singing hymns and listening to the vicar give the same sermon on God's peace and love for all His children, as well as the benefit of tithing the church. At home, Nisha's father would make her read the Bible with him to understand the substance of the stories told in the sacred book.

Cecil B. Knight believed that teaching the Word of God beyond the book of Matthew was imperative for the fundamental upbringing of children. From an early start, he tried his best to instill the fear of God in Nisha, reminding her that all had freewill and must face the actions of their consequences. No sin was greater than the Creator and those who thought to buy their way to salvation would face His wrath when they die, and the only way to salvation was through Jesus Christ who died for all sins.

There would be times of hardship but that did not mean that God abandoned her, rather she should remain faithful and her reward would come. That was the hardest lesson to teach, despite all the hardships Nisha faced as a young child deep down Cecil always had a bad feeling the worse was yet to come. He would only pray that his beloved daughter would remember what he taught her and not abandon hope. 

Evenings were full of laughter as they baked, danced around, and had their own tea parties, often falling asleep on the couch in front of the fire reading a book. It was just the two of them, it had always been for many years. 

Needless to say that Sundays in Florence were bustling with many people congregating in the cathedral for Sunday Mass. For the past five Sundays Nisha found herself in-between two older plump ladies who sang off-key and often gossiped in Italian as the sermon was given. Despite not knowing much of the mother tongue Nisha did try to be polite in listening to the bishop and tried to follow along based on the scriptures (which she did guess often more than not). 

Her eyes would usually wander to her father who sat further up with the mayor and his family, consisting of his wife and two younger children, a boy and a girl. In true fashion, her father would look intently at the bishop when speaking, nodding to what he was saying. Cecil mastered Italian as a young lad so guessing was not needed. Often after the service when they were alone her father would list off how all that was spoken was wrong, telling her not to listen to what was preached. Although she took his word for it, Cecil encouraged his daughter to look for herself, to counter him if she thought his interpretation was wrong and they would talk about it ("One of these days I will be wrong about something, and I depend on you my dear girl to have to courage to correct me"). 

Feeling the life taken out of her as the lady to her left adjusted herself for the fifth time in the past half-hour, Nisha decided that the only way for her to get some relief was to be just as unnerved in moving about. It was petty of her and if her father found out he would frown about it, but she needed something to show these women that they could not just move as they pleased with her life on the line.

She took the first attempt of giving a small roll of her shoulders, relaxing the tension that seized her upper body. Twisting her body in the slightest, she saw Maria on the other side of the pews surrounded by her family, presumably her sister's family. Unlike the others who were silent, Maria was picking her nails loudly, the sound of fingernails flicking against one another as a soft bored sigh escaped her lips. Nisha's lips gave a quirk downward seeing her friend act in such a manner.

Her reddish-brown eyes looked to the mosaic at the apse of the church. The main image was of Jesus putting a crown on Saint Marco, a monk whom the basilica was named after, as the saint with his big green eyes shining with gold flecks hands the small version of the church. The hand of God was seen above giving the blessing of this offering. In the very middle of the apse at the highest peak was Jesus giving his peace, face serene. On four smaller corners were pictures of the four apostles Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, each accompanied by the allegorical images of the man, lion, calf, and eagle. The big picture was beautiful, attention to detail was clear by the smooth transition of colors, not a stone out of place. 

Her mind was void of the words echoing in the grand room, embossed with rich gems and gold glistening brightly from the sunlight pushing through the stained glass windows depicting the various events of Christ's life. Her head itched to turn and engross herself in the beautiful artwork the church had to offer, but the gruff sound escaping the lady from her right stopped her movements for a bit. She remained in wonder at the mosaic scene in front of her for the next few minutes until it was time for communion. 

Nisha took a brisk escape when it was time to go near the altar for the wafer, from the corner of her eye she saw a familiar light brown curl not too far behind her. Her stomach dropped reminding her of the night six days before. Since the night of the party, she didn't see Gasparini around the garden or library. That may be due to her running off into the village to spend time with Maria most of the day, but she was thankful to not see his hypnotic cornflower gaze on her form. 

The entire time on the line the pit of her gut felt heavy knowing he saw her, and how intense his gaze was as she walked a few feet in front of him. She was wearing a modest mustard yellow patterned shirtwaist dress, reaching mid-calf with plain black flats. Her jaw rolled as she took a step in front of the bishop, opening her mouth as he gave the blessing. 

"Che il nostro buon Dio ti benedica." He gave the sign of the cross with his hand before Nisha folded her hands in front of her as she walked back to her seat. She watched her father with one leg crossed politely as he listened to the mayor tell him something, not taking notice of his daughter's pleading stare. One older lady was already there, playing with her grey hair waiting for everyone to sit back down. 

Nisha herself resorted to playing with an idle strand as she looked at the horizontal rows several feet above the pews.

The higher row was marble with fresco paintings of the saints, both of the new testament and who was once a part of the Roman Catholic church, carrying gifts figuratively to the alter. The lower row had several marble depictions of famed stories from the old and new testament. The details of each story were marvelous, from Abraham and Issac to Moses with the burning bush, there was the feeling of the events jumping to life. 

Nisha wondered how she never took time to notice the beautiful details of the church before the last half hour as the final rites were recited. Many began to file out the room to gather along the halls and outside the rich foundation of the basilica. She stayed in place by the pew, alone taking in the silence as her cognac eyes stared straight at the gold and ivory Crucifix, a pang of conviction marred her heart. Though she did nothing wrong other than her occasional spout of anger or childish pranks for her amusement she did try her best to follow the commandments to the best of her abilities. 

Being engrossed in her thoughts she lacked the perception to recognize that she was not alone in the grand room, but rather a bystander also sitting a couple of feet behind her. Her hands began to twitch and twiddle knowing if she went outside there would only be older ladies or other teen girls who shared the same language barrier as herself. There was no doubt though that she was more interesting to them as a conversation topic over being a part of said conversations. 

Looking to the small brown pleather wristwatch on her left hand, she knew there was a waiting period of twenty minutes before the mayor would decide to head back home. Being the charismatic leader of the city Mayor Gasparini took time in greeting and exchanging pleasantries with members of the church, showing loyalty to who he once was and how to improve the lives of his home as well. 

She got up from her seat, smoothing out her dress as she walked closer to the apse of the church, wanting a better look at the fresco of Saint Marco's acceptance of the crown from Jesus. Was everything just a transaction, by giving or selling to receive 'grace'? Not everything was about power and money, no one could pay-off God. 

Her flats met the bottom of the sanctuary where the wooden barrier separated the clergy from the members. Her eyes looked beyond the alter to see the image hidden behind the high gold chairs. Her toes tipped up, hands leaning onto the wood trying to gauge what imagery was used. 

"You go up any closer you may be in danger of disrespect and condemnation from the church for daring to walk on the sacred ground." 

Wild curls bounced as Nisha turned back to the familiar voice. Arturo Gasparini moved to sit in the second row with his arms smugly folded over his chest. The collar of his olive green shirt poked out of his beige knit pullover vest, his arms were wrapped in a form-fitting tan sports coat that matched his trousers. His hair was combed back neatly hiding the curls of his hair, showing his rounded hairline gathering the light brown thickness that gave Nisha the itch to want to dive her fingers into. She quickly admonished the thought as the smirk on his face became prominent in her eye-line, causing her to move to her right to further the distance between them. 

"How long have you been sitting here?" She subconsciously licked her heart-shaped lips as her hands trembled behind her back, hoping he would stay in place under the eyes of God. 

Sometimes not all prayers are answered the way we like. 

"Long enough." He breathed out harshly through his nose, body slightly slumping as his eyes danced on her puny figure. 

"I wasn't -I wasn't trying to do anything wrong. It's very beautiful is all." She winced as her native speech from school came out, correcting her syntax in her mind as a form of ease of the humiliation she forced upon herself. If Gasparini took notice he did not comment, instead, he sat back up straight turning his head to the mosaic above him. 

"I can see where you are coming from. It is hard to not be attracted to beautiful things." Nisha watched his leather shoes methodically tap the floor, his cornflower gaze suddenly turning to her at the end of his statement. She felt her face heat with the look in his eyes reminding her of that night again. Her feet began to move fast, walking towards the doors that were wide open for her escape. 

As she passed his row, her head was bent down hoping to not meet him up close again. She folded her arms not wanting his touch to seer her skin, lingering for hours as her stomach would erupt in big waves of something foreign to her. 

What she didn't anticipate was for his quick fingers to take a hold of her purple ribbon, coming free from her hair with a simple tug. Her fingers went into her loose hair as she turned back to him with a cross face, "Give it back!" She was in no mood for games and the last thing she wanted to do was fight in the church. 

He finally got up, sauntering towards her playing with the velvet strip around his fingers. 

"No"

A frown was prominent on Nisha's face as her hands formed into fists. She was trying her best to hold her anger, maybe this was a test on her patience and temper. "Please, give it back." 

His eyes gave her a quick once over, "Say my name." Her brows furrowed confused by his request, "What do you mean?" 

"If you say my name with that pretty voice of yours I might give you it back." Her voice wasn't pretty. She may not hear her voice as others did but she was sure that her voice was not worthy of the compliments he was willing to give. 

She held her right hand out, mouth twisting before she willed in herself to do as he asked, "Arturo, please give me back my ribbon." Her fingers were shaking in anger, eyes narrow as she watched the grin playing on his lips. His hand with her treasured string descended close to her open one. Motions were slow, tantalizing her to grab it out of his grasp. 

Just as it was brushing against her skin, he pulled his hand away. 

What replaced her sentimental object was a hungry kiss from his ruby lips to her smooth hand. His other hand held onto her wrist keeping her in place. Lips moved from her palm to upwards, goosebumps emerging on her brown skin. 

She did not know how to properly react if she should go by instinct and slap him or just accept it for now. Though the first choice was tempting, she knew better than to commit violence against another unless warranted (and this particular occasion was up for debate). Nisha did not want to accept his gesture, romantic or otherwise, since it would only give him a reason to do worse the next time. 

She pulled her hand away when he stopped, cradling her arm close as if he burned it with his kisses. "What about my ribbon? You promised to give it back!" 

Laughter escaped his moist lips, "No _coniglietto_ , I said I might give it back if you said my name. It does sound nice out of those pretty lips." Nisha stood her ground as Arturo closed the gap between them, the sun beating down on the stained glass shone on the two of them solitude in the cathedral. 

His slim fingers came up to her face, thumb brushing over her lips. The touch was soft like he was touching feathers but possessive. No words escape either party, her cognac eyes rendered frozen from his sapphire-blue gaze. He had no right to touch her like this, but somehow Arturo Gasparini made it his right. He was silently claiming her in the sight of God, and she was afraid of what he would do if she allowed him to wield that power. 

Maybe her precious ribbon wasn't worth all of this. Breaking her gaze Nisha ran out of the church to the bright sun, shielding her eyes looking frantically for her father. She needed to be quick before his hot gaze was on her again. 

That evening she cried in the bath as she mourned her lost item. It was a precious memory from her past and for Gasparini to simply take it as his own angered her to no end. That thief, he will pay for that. First her dress and now her ribbon. 

If she wasn't careful it could be her heart next. 

  
~~~

The sun was plentiful in the fields of Florence, unlike back home. Nisha was used to the cloudy weather England had to offer, so taking in all the sun was imperative. She occupied her time with Maria once again, continuing to avoid Gasparini before he stole more than she could give. Both girls decided it would be a grand idea to take a ride along the river and spend the afternoon under a strong tree to give them some shade.

Maria thought it best to bring some nail varnish to do her nails like a proper woman, hoping to also fix Nisha up a bit. Nisha was not in the least interested in doing her nails, instead of taking the time to climb the thick tree and swing from her legs on a branch as she read a book. 

"Nisha get down from there! The last thing you need is for your skirt to fall onto your face and show the entire town your underwear." 

"But that's not going to happen! Besides who cares if they were to see my polka-dotted panties?" 

A sigh escaped the older girl's thin lips, "It's call decorum bunny, at least have some of that." She blew on her shiny red fingers waving them lightly to dry. She shook her head addressing her monkey of a friend once more, "You need to grow up a bit we're not just some schoolgirls anymore." 

"I am growing up just fine. Reading Agatha Christie isn't exactly child's play." The sound of a crisp page-turning made the girl below roll her eyes, "That's not what I mean and you know that! You'll be sixteen in a couple of weeks, don't you care for anything other than reading and running around?" 

Nisha stuck her tongue out in a childish manner she knew her friend referred to, but it was so hard to suppress it! Maria was a mother hen to Nisha, in the last few weeks doing all her best to make Nisha into a proper lady. "Not really...I mean there's my drawings and Bo, along with running. Look, I have a lot of interests Maria I won't be bored any time soon." 

"Your main interest should be men. We're at the prime age of attracting men right now Nisha. What are we going to do if we don't grab them now?" 

"Trust me, Maria, we have all the time in the world to get men. Anyway, you should be the last one to worry about getting a man. Give it a few years they'll all be running like a pack of hounds for you."

The chestnut-haired girl huffed as she kicked the air, "While I don't doubt that at all, there's only one man I want." 

Nisha gave a soft 'hmm', "I can't guess who it could be....maybe some over-aged buffoon who thinks pretty words and eyes could get all women to their knees for him?"

"He - who is not a buffoon, is the most charming man I've ever met. All the girls fall for him because he's a gentleman. Arturo Gasparini knows how to treat a girl." Maria looked up to the sky in awe as she placed her hands over her heart in a lovesick manner. 

Nisha raised her eyebrows. _**So**_ , she thought swinging lightly, **_this is how girls fawn over Jimmy Stewart huh?_**

"I just don't get the hype of him. Yes, he is very handsome but what's it about him that gets all the girls squealing like pigs?" Maria's face turned sour hearing Nisha's statement, "You mean to tell me you really don't know who he is?" 

The short girl shook her head. 

"Alright, I'll just spell it out for you. Arturo Gasparini is more than just the first son of our mayor. He made a name for himself not too long ago as a filmmaker. He went to America to study film and everything, you know worked with Hitchcock?" 

Hearing films caught her interest, "What kind of films does he make?" She closed her book folding the page she last read, pulling herself up on the branch before all the blood ran to her head. 

"Hmm, of the two I've seen they're just romance. You know, rich guy poor girl stories..." 

As quick as her interest peaked, it waned with the cliche genre. "Well, I hope he'll expand into other genres. So he's just popular because of his job? What, do you all want to be his starring lady?" 

Maria's lips broke out in a painful smile, busying herself with another layer of varnish, "I suppose you would frown on that wouldn't you bunny?" 

She could feel the bitterness from her friend, and it was not something she meant to do. "No, I would not. I'm sorry Maria, I meant no harm in that statement. I do think it would be cool to be a star in a Hollywood film, for everyone to see you and then all those dazzling lights...imagine how cool it would be to dine with the stars like Frankie!" 

"I thought you hated Sinatra?" 

"No, Frank Sinatra is phenomenal. It's his gang of followers that I hate. I purposely don't make my love for his swooning voice known in fear of that group in our maths class would try to reel into their cult." A cringe passed through her remember those pimpled face girls screaming his lyrics out of tune. They all had his pictures taped to their notebooks and were obsessed with everything he did. All Nisha did was appreciate his music, and he did have nice eyes. 

She was starting to see a trend for herself now, blue eyes were pretty striking to her. 

"I guess you learn something new every day. I wouldn't be surprised if Arturo asked you to star in one of his films." An unladylike snort came out of Nisha from the last statement her friend made. 

"Me? I'm nothing like those movie stars. They're all like you Maria; beautiful, slim, and tall. There's a grace you have that gives a movie star quality to you. I'm me, to put it simply. Short, darker, and honestly a bit childish in antics as you said. Not to mention clumsy but I think that's obvious." 

While she was bathing in the compliment her friend gave her, Maria had just enough sense than to leave her friend hanging. "You're quite beautiful in your own skin Nisha dear. Maybe not ideal for many but you are very attractive. I mean why else would Arturo bother you if you weren't pretty in his eyes?" 

"He would flirt with a rat if it gave him attention." 

"Don't give me that. I've seen the way he looks at you. I told you before, I would lose an arm for his gaze. Just promise me you won't waste an opportunity." 

"Waste an opportunity?" 

Maria huffed, was a bunny that daft? She hit the blanket she was on and shouted, "You can't be so dumb Nisha! Yes I mean waste an _opportunity_!" 

Startled by the high-pitched voice, the short girl lost her balance. It had been quite some time since someone yelled at her and it didn't sit right to have a friend address her in that manner. Her body was shaken by the tone, not catching herself fast enough to hold onto the thick branch. In a matter of seconds, she found herself plunked onto the ground chest and arms first. 

A small wail escaped her lips as she straightened herself out. As she was dusting herself off she felt an increased familiar pain, she looked at her left arm. 

She opened up the long cut from before, and now the bleeding was worse from the bark and hit on the floor. As she moved it pain spread all over her arm, it was hard to move. She groaned trying to hold her hand. 

Maria only wanted to storm away hearing the fall Nisha had taken, did she always had to be so clumsy? It may be cute for a toddler but not a grown girl. She rolled her eyes hearing her friend moan in pain, but suddenly her anger turned to worry seeing the drops of blood soaking the cashmere blanket. Although her friend tried to hide it, amber eyes could see the tears forming, the lips trembling and her friend's left hand quickly swelling up twice it's the original size. 

Not being in a situation like this before, Maria was clueless when it came to helping those in an accident. The only logical thing coming to mind was to get a doctor. 

Wincing in pain, Nisha started to breathe in long, slow puffs trying to focus her mind on something other than the pain she was feeling. Maria was slow to action, but she got off the blanket to wrap her friend's hand around it, not caring for the moment of how tainted the sheet would become. 

Blood seeped onto the bright yellow threads, involuntary tears escaped her eyes. All she wanted was her father, he would know what to do. She wished she stayed close by him now. 

Amid all her pain, with the blood surging in her ears, Nisha did not hear the car that came over. Maria's voice felt far away as she addressed the person who emerged from the vehicle. Her eyes focused on her hand, a fiery sensation fluttering on her skin as she did her best to remain still. 

"Nisha? Nisha, come back to me ciccino." She felt strong hands on her shoulders, lightly shaking her back to reality. It was those beautiful eyes again, an odd sense of peace washed over her as she thought of flowers in the garden she was forced to abandon. 

"I'm going to take you to the hospital alright?" Hearing the deep voice clearly, she pushed herself back on her heels. Profusely shaking her head she frowned registering who came by to help. 

"N-no. Just take me back home." She sniffled a bit as she watched his concerned face, "It wouldn't be good to leave your hand unattended. I'll take you to the hospital and call your father." 

"No, I want him now!" Loud sobs escaped her as she lowered her head, what was so hard about getting her father? He was the only one she trusted to help her out. 

A hand covered Arturo's angelic face as Maria huffed in frustration, "Bunny, we promise to get your dad later. Arturo is right we need to get you attended to right away." There was a lack of empathy from the elder girl, not understanding why her friend was so stubborn in wanting her father. 

Now, Nisha was not known to be a cry-baby, facing much worse bruises and tackles in everyday life with her shenanigans. If one were to consider her situation, a girl in a foreign place, suffering the attentions of a strange older man, and her lack of depth in this new world she entered, it would be clear to see that her suffering was more than the physical pain she felt at the moment. 

"Look, Nisha, right now I need to get you in a safe place. I promise you will be okay and I will call your father. I'll get him myself if needed. Do you trust me?" Her honey eyes blurred with tears, wanting to shake her head. 

Did she have a choice? There was no other option but to trust him at the moment, it was her only way to ensure she would be alright. Her gaze looked down at his hand open for her to take. With her right hand, she tentatively took his grasp and tried to get up. A moan came out as she fell back down. 

"How did she get hurt?" 

Maria rolled her eyes, "She was swinging on the tree and fell." 

"I was not! I was sitting on the tree and fell when you screamed at me." Maria gave her hurt friend an annoyed look. 

Arturo cast a mundane gaze to both girls, "That isn't important now, let's just get you in the car." He crouched over her, putting his arms under her legs and arms to lift her body. She felt his hard chest and blushed from the closeness. 

Maria was quick to follow with the bikes at hand, putting them on the back of the car by herself as the elder male put Nisha into the backseat. Sweating a bit, her concern for her friend started to go away in annoyance to how much attention she was getting from Arturo. She never saw him so focused on anyone who got hurt in front of him before. 

Just what about Nisha was so special? 

"Can you drive?" Amber eyes gave a bewildered look, "Me? Yes, I do know how to drive....you can't expect me to drive. I'll stay with her in the back." 

"She's right, it would be better for you to drive." Nisha didn't want to be in his arms any longer than necessary. 

"No. Maria, _drive_ the car. I will stay here. The hospital is only fifteen minutes away it's not a long drive." Both girls became uncomfortable at his change of tone, not used to hearing him speak in a rough, authoritative manner. Maria's mouth opened in shock, following his orders and began to drive north.

Nisha would have moved back, but his hold on her was strong. One arm was over her shoulders pulling her close, his other cradling her wounded arm. She felt the rhythm of his heart, giving her mind ease as her father came to mind. She rested her head on his arm feeling relaxed, her left arm starting to feel numb. 

When they reached the hospital admittance was prompt (who were the doctors to leave the mayor's son's request ignored?). Nisha sat on the crumpled paper of the hospital bed, ice resting on her red swollen arm. Maria refused to come into the room, opting to call her brother-in-law to pick her up. She was too annoyed at the situation to stay around any longer, besides Nisha had _Arturo_ with her. 

Arturo did call her father as promised, but due to his meetings, he had all day Cecil begrudgingly asked Arturo to stay with her and bring her back home. Cecil was worried about his daughter's well-being, but unfortunately many would not be appreciative if he stopped his plans for her. 

So, Nisha was forced to stay with Angelface for the time being. She refused to look at him, his body sitting straight on the wooden chair with a leg crossed over. His once-crisp shirt was now wrinkled and stained with blood, _her_ blood. 

There was a nurse who frequently came into the room, changing the ice bag and bringing items to clean her cut first. She did ask Arturo to leave but he refused, his eyes only turning hard at that request. When it came to looking at Nisha he would calm down, casting his most caring gaze to her. 

She could only give a painful smile as the doctor came into the room, who barely glanced at her before turning straight to Arturo with a fervent handshake. Standing to his full height, Arturo walked towards the timid girl as he spoke to the doctor in Italian. Her brows furrowed as she attempted to decipher what was said. 

Her cognac eyes held onto Arturo's form, he was charming with the elder man, his arms folded as he occasionally would move his hands as he was talking. The two men spoke for several minutes about things she had no clue about. 

"La ragazza è fortunata che tu l'abbia trovata. Lei è la tua ...?" The doctor looked towards her with questions filling his dark brown eyes. The younger man's eyes also turned to her, giving her a slow once over. Her pink lips twitched downward seeing the sensual look in his eyes. What exactly were they talking about? 

"Non lo direi esattamente. È una ragazza speciale, il mio coniglietto speciale. Solo non farlo ancora sapere a mio padre." The doctor gave a knowing grin before finally giving Nisha the focus needed on her arm. 

He gave a 'tsk' taking a gentle hold of her arm, "E'stata una rottura netta. Solo la sua ulna era rotta. Rimetterò a posto l'osso e le metterò un gesso sul braccio. Lo indosserà per sei settimane prima di tornare qui." 

The doctor gave her a kind smile, "Stai fermo per un momento." She turned to Arturo for clarity on what was said. Instead of giving a response, he held onto her right hand giving her an encouraging squeeze. 

"Ahh!"

Her scream was muted as Arturo put his hand over her mouth, she bit onto his palm harshly as the pain intensified for some seconds before leaving. 

The doctor left for a moment to get the supplies, leaving the two alone again. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." 

"Hmm?" He was watching the mark she bit into his hand. "It's alright, you are in much more pain than this small thing. If you'd like, you can kiss it better." 

Her eyes widened as heat rushed to her face. "I'm only kidding coniglietto. I do adore that look on your face." She cleared her throat before turning her head in the other direction. 

"He said you'll be wearing the cast for six weeks." 

"What?" She would have jumped off the bed but what help would that be? Tears were fresh in her eyes again, "What's the matter?" He was concerned for her again, his tone hushed as he held onto her small shoulders. 

"I won't be able to do anything now! I do everything with my left hand, write, draw, eat. Everything! What am I going to do now?" 

A resigned sigh escaped his lips as he combed his curls back, "Is that was all this fuss is about? Your hand will get better. It is not the end of the world. Just be glad the injury wasn't worse. What would possess you to climb that tree anyway?" 

"It was something I always did back home, I've never fallen off of a tree before." 

"Well, there's always a first time for everything. Just promise me you will not climb another tree again." 

Nisha pursed her lips not wanting to agree to anything with him.

"It's not going to hurt me if you fall again. To be quite honest, I like having this time with you alone." His pretty fingers graced her face, pulling her chin up to look at him. She was too tired to fight him, out of reluctance she agreed with a stiff nod. 

He moved away from her quickly, hands hiding in his dark green trouser pockets. "You know, it's not a good thing that for you to agree with anything I have to do something you don't like." 

"That's not my fault. Why do you feel the need to threaten me to get your way? If you're nice to me I can be much more agreeable. I heard a lot about you, Mr.Gasparini, and I don't like what's been said." 

Laughter filled the room, "Did your friend scare you? Don't worry she's probably lying. I am not who you think Nisha. If I was, you would be here by yourself since that loyal friend of yours is nowhere to be seen." His body folded in half from his melodious timbre, the pity from his words sunk through the floor. 

Suddenly, his laughter ceased, eyes looking into her own with genuine care. 

"If anything, I think today proved how much you need me." 

A retort was ready to fly out, but the doctor came back with the nurse ready to mend Nisha's ailment. 

"I'll be outside whenever you're ready." He gave a smug smile to her before morphing it into something pleasant to give to the staff surrounding her. 

She stayed unsatisfied as the wet plaster was placed over her arm. 

~~~

Although the chain of events had gone by slowly, it was in fact barely two hours that passed. The sun was setting over the meadow Arturo stopped by for a break. His generosity was still intact as he decided to buy some gelato to help put Nisha's mind at ease. There was nothing better than sugar to make one's troubles dissipate. 

They both sat on the ground surrounded by the field of pretty pastel flowers, the wind lightly blowing along the green grass. The sun was beginning to set, bringing an end to the tumultuous day. The young girl was thankful for the silence that ensued since they left the hospital. Her eyes remained set on her hand, careful not to move her fingers for fear of adding pain. 

Not used to using her right hand for many activities, it was surprising to see how hard it was to hold a simple cone and lick the melting dessert in neat strokes. It wasn't that the act was hard, but it felt odd, embodying her entire experience with Arturo. 

Her feet kept hitting together, a reminder of Judy Garland clicking her ruby heels to go back home. Maybe if she tried hard enough Nisha would wake up to two months prior at home, hoping that this was all just a dream. 

"How do you like it?" It was the first time in an hour she acknowledged him. He did try to strike up a conversation before, but her mind wandered outside the window, humming the familiar tune of Sinatra's 'I'll Never Smile Again'. She felt the frequent glances his eyes gave, her heart skipping a beat every time. 

"There's a richness to the flavor I've never tasted before." Another lick was taken as she assessed her judgment, "Yes, it's rich and creamy. Thank you." She held the creamy chocolate to the top of her mouth with her tongue, savoring the sweetness for the short moments. 

Instead of giving some banter, Arturo turned back to his vanilla gelato with a smile on his face. Though curious about the hidden sentiment, Nisha chose to ignore the thought and began to devour the smooth chocolate. 

"Careful, you may hurt your head with that speed." His long finger lightly tapped on her temple, her eyes looking up at him as she attempted to lick the side of her mouth. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you like the feeling of pain." 

"Well, you don't know me." 

"Is that an invitation?" The sweet cream on her lips turned sour at his insinuation. Giving off a huff, she decided not to entertain him any longer, taking a bite of the cone. 

In the midst of her joy, some hair stuck onto her face. Now, here was a true dilemma for anyone in her situation to face. One hand was broken for wear, the other covered with the sticky food, how was she to get her strands out of her mouth? She tried to use her forearm to move it slightly, her whole body was used to move the wild curls that started to matte with melted chocolate. 

For several moments she tried to do it herself, the sound of cackles right next to her. Her body was doing an odd twist for something so simple yet she refused to ask for help. 

"You are just being so stubborn... aren't you?" Ivory fingers came in front of her, removing the curls from her face. He stuck his hand back into his pocket, pulling out a small napkin to wipe the smudge on her face. He was gentle in strokes like he was caring for a porcelain doll that was mildly covered with dirt. His fingers lightly combed through her knotted pillowy locks. 

Nisha swallowed what little ice cream she had left, unsure how to react to his gentle actions. 

"Stop being afraid. If I really wanted to do you any harm, don't you think I would have done something now, all alone with you in the middle of nowhere?" 

She hadn't thought of that, her head was quick to search in the opposite directions to find that he in fact was right, the closest person was down the hill.

"Maybe if you get to know me, you'll see I'm not all that bad."

Guilt seeped through hearing the low mutter of his accented voice. She turned her head to him, his eyes were downcast and his full lips turned down. 

It did take some moments for her to think it through, but she quickly made a decision she never thought to regret until years in the future. 

"You're right, I am sorry. I should not judge you in that way. You did scare me though, especially that night at the ball." There was nothing more for her to say, so after eating the last of her cone she got up from the field, wiping her sticky hand on her dress, and walked back up to the car. 

Arturo was stunned by her comment, he was never expecting her to apologize. A secret smile played on his lips as she walked away, many thoughts swam through his mind acknowledging just how mature her mind was, even if her haphazard childish antics didn't exactly prove it. 

Finishing his own dessert, he walked up to the car where Nisha was waiting for him inside the car, her face looking to the purple sky with fluttery clouds dancing in the sky. 

"Nisha" She turned to him expectantly, not sure what his actions would be. 

His thumb then went to her face, wiping the remainder of her chocolate from her lower lips. His finger then made contact with his own mouth, slowly sucking the sweet flavor off his skin. 

Her cheeks turned bright red, realizing it was the second time that week he made an implicit gesture to her lips. She wasn't completely daft when it came to sexuality, or what little of it. Even with his fingers, he was connecting them to an indirect kiss. As the only girl who never was kissed yet it made her belly churn thinking what it would feel like from Arturo's soft ruby lips. 

She blinked the thought away as the motor started running. 

Maybe it was time for her to grow up, she couldn't just be a girl climbing trees anymore. At least not with Arturo around. 


	3. Scenes in an Italian Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arturo draws the line with Nisha, but also calls for a truce?

No matter how warm or cold it was outside, Nisha would always start her day with a hot cup of tea. It was always refreshing to sit with the light aroma of black tea that she would mix with milk and sugar. Usually, in the mornings she would sit with her father to have breakfast, but today was a bit different. She decided to start her day alone having trouble sleeping the night before. Rain poured heavily and she was restless turning all about on her small bed.

It was hard enough to sleep with the hard cast on her arm causing discomfort, but adding the strong sounds of rain and thunder just made it that much worse for Nisha. She was usually terrified of the loud clashing in the sky, her eyes watching the closed door across the room contemplating to walk outside and wake her father. She knew it would inconvenience him greatly, but he was understanding.

In the end, she stayed put laying on her bed hugging a pillow tightly with her free hand, eyes wide as the thunder roared in her ears. Eventually, she fell asleep singing a fond hymn to herself to drive away her fear.

Taking her cup of sweetened tea, she went outside the mansion to the garden she avoided for weeks. Memories of her first weeks in the grandiose house surged to her heart knowing when it came time to leave at the end of August she would sorely miss it. There would also be regret in her absence of the beautiful scenery in hopes to hide from Arturo, that cad.

The fragrance of flowers overpowered her tea, she closed her tired eyes and smiled at the tranquil morning presented before her. Her eyes opened up to the sunlight peeking through the heavy leaves of the trees, little smithereens of light dancing on the patterned stone ground. Looking for the table she would do her sketches on, she wiped the remaining water from the previous night and sat down on the marble bench, taking a sip of the hot tea as she looked around.

Watching beyond the trees, her mouth opened in awe at the orange sky before her. Nisha was used to waking early to start her day, just not early enough to witness the miracle of the sun rising to the sky. It was truly a wonder to see the grand sun emerge into the sky, driving the night away. If she ever had the courage one day Nisha would take the time to see the exact moment of day and night meeting, it would be a sight for sore eyes. She was always enamored by the sky from a young age, washing her over with peace no matter how her day would go. The sky reminded her of just how big the world was, full of opportunities and life beyond what she knew.

As her honey eyes scanned the floral jungle, her gaze zeroed in on the floor, the various puddles with the remnants of the storm. In some of the larger ones, a couple of frogs were sitting in wait, their chests moving for a moment before hopping to the next pool of water. Although mundane in actions, Nisha was hypnotized by the rhythm the amphibians took their steps.

Her mind began to wander to an old school fable she was taught in primary school, the one about frogs in hot water. If you throw them into the boiling hot water they would be quick to jump out, reasonable enough they recognize the danger. Let them go into the water cold, however, and if you allow the water to heat over time the frogs would not jump out. Rather, they would stay in, oblivious to their immediate danger.

When Nisha first heard this fable, she could never understand why the frogs would just stay in the water gradually heating up, wouldn't they feel the temperature change? She thought the literal sense of the fable made no sense but missed out on the fundamental lesson. When you see the danger in front of you it is easy to run away. If the danger is not seen at first but starts to form bit by bit, you may not recognize it in time, nor want to leave.

Her eyebrows furrowed in deep thought watching the frogs hop in their own path, wondering why her mind went on its tangent. She shook her head with a secretive smile, only she was capable of remembering an old tidbit from years before by the mere sight of a frog.

She may not understand that fable in her naive mind, but soon, it will all come back to her.

"Nisha, it's time for us to leave!" She turned her head towards the deep voice of her father, drinking the last of her now lukewarm tea before heading to the big automobile.

~~~

"What are you doing here?"

Uneven nails scratched centimeters above the hardened cast as the young girl watched in disbelief who her new church partner was. A straight line pressed on her lips as the blue eyes holding onto her form danced with mirth.

Nisha was supposed to be sitting with those two plump women, silently moaning in agony as she would watch the beautiful art surrounding the church. She was growing an odd fondness being nestled between the women, that female warmth she never had the privilege of feeling before, a detached motherly love.

Instead, walking into the glorious church she was surprised to see in their place a begrudgingly familiar figure, strong legs crossed mildly as hands were folded over a silk-covered chest.

"I thought you were already suffering more than enough, so switching with the two lovely ladies was the least I could do. You need to be relaxed for your hand to heal. From experience, you'd be much better off with me over many in this church."

Nisha's lips pulled down, eyes moving to the empty space much bigger than the weeks before. It was enticing, to have a bit of room without worrying about her life, but with Arturo? Pleading eyes turned a few rows ahead to her father, he was with the mayor again sitting quietly seeming to be in prayer.

Her body turned back, seeing the two women happy together. They gave a small wave and made gestures towards Arturo, who gave his charming smile with that dimple making its entrance. His eyes raked over Nisha's form slowly, watching her body slightly shaking unsure of what to do.

"Though your gesture is kind, I did grow quite comfortable with Serafina and Lorena." Her stance became a bit stronger, cradling her broken arm as her gaze went back to the two older ladies with a returning smile.

"Don't you know it's a sin to lie in church? Your father would be quite upset if he knew."

"I'm not lying!" Her slightly higher pitch brought unwarranted eyes her way, cheeks turning red in embarrassment. The last thing she wanted was any more attention than she already garnered with Arturo's attention on her. His smile widened showing off his boyish dimple, uncrossing his leg to slide down to the left, "How about I move in then?"

Her eyebrow rose in curiosity seeing his sudden willingness to meet her halfway. Hearing the murmuring around her along with the strike of the clock beginning the mass, there was no other choice but to sit quickly.

"See? That was not so hard. Now you cannot say that I tried to cage you in." Nisha's brows furrowed trying to decipher his meaning until she saw the space between them. Regardless, she cornered herself to the end of the pew, holding her legs tightly together for fear of touching his clothed legs.

With the entrance of the bishop, all stood to sing the hymns. As Arturo proved, she indeed needed his help. For the hymnbook they both held onto an end each, singing the songs with the organ playing. Nisha took note of his beautiful deep baritone voice, smoothly singing the notes, unlike her untrained voice. If enough practice was taken, she would have a pretty soprano voice giving light songs, but for now, her voice did crack ever so often when she lost breath. The words were in Italian so her pronunciation also was not up to par, it would have been better if she was just silent, many would not notice anyway.

She did take her advice after the second song, instead of staring at the foreign words listening closely to Arturo's melody. It bothered her to admit it, but his voice was hypnotizing, drawing her into a state of haze and mild fantasy of being sung to by a romantic interest. Nisha shook her head, banishing those thoughts from her mind. She must not allow Maria's ways to rub off on her, she will not fall for whatever charms he would put forth her way.

After the hymns, everyone sat back down for the sermon. All were quiet except for the booming voice of the old bishop on the pulpit, vividly speaking his message. She knew it was from the book of Matthew again, if there was one word she would understand it was "Matteo". She hadn't the slightest idea of what message the bishop was giving, but knowing her father she would hear about it in the evening. For the time being she held her interest looking back up at the magnificent apse with the serene imagery of Jesus, his hand giving the sign of peace.

If she only had the privilege of feeling that ease with certain individuals around. Getting lost getting in studying the intricate mosaic patterns above her, Nisha almost ignored the light tapping on her knee. At first, she thought it was just a figment of her imagination, but then the tap became a bit stronger, deliberate.

Cognac eyes looked down to her nylon covered knee, nothing was close enough to cause the shift. She turned back to the mosaic once more, only to feel the tap again a mere few seconds later. Nisha turned her head quickly to see what it was, but nothing was there. Her gaze moved further left to see Arturo's legs away from her own, widened just enough for his comfort. Eyes scanned his suit-clad body, watching his pretty eyes look straight towards the bishop with respect.

Maybe she was thinking too much like earlier in the morning, her mind becoming hyperactive in the last few days. Her dismissal was close, so close to it just being her mind. Unfortunately, she saw it.

The small ghost of a smile over his face. His eyes stayed on the bishop, but that sly smirk gave everything away. She grimaced knowing that he had stored for her. It was too good to be true, his act of goodwill did have strings attached. She gave him a dirty glare before crossing her legs in the ladylike manner she saw other women do. Making herself small against the end of the pew, she turned her head to look at the fresco behind the altar. With the light from outside the vivid colors of blue and orange illuminated behind the deacon.

All was fine until the contact from Arturo went from slight tapping to his hand grazing her leg. The hairs on her skin rose at his foreign touch, squeezing her legs tightly together unsure of what this feeling he gave her was. Slim fingers grazed further up her thigh, slowly ghosting over her widening hips before resting on her stomach.

Maria would always tell her to stop eating as many sweets as she did, to not be such a pig when eating meals. It wasn't that Nisha was starved, far from it. Regardless of all that was told to her in the past, her cheeks flared red as his hand rested over the small pudge on her stomach. It wasn't anything to go crazy over if she thought about it, just a healthy amount anyone would have if their tummy wasn't flat. Maybe running wild did help her to not put on any more than she did.

Or the mere fact that it all went to other parts of her body, but she never thought of it in that manner.

With his hand resting there, she decided to remove it with her free hand. That proved to be another mistake on her part as he intertwined their fingers together, pulling her to an awkward position. She was quick to shake his hand off as roughly as she could muster, knocking the pew momentarily before setting herself free.

She began to stare off into space, doing her best to ignore his pushy antics of touching her. It was bothersome that no one paid any attention, and as his hand was low enough so not many took note of his distracting ways.

Arturo retaliated by pinching her stomach playfully, taunting her not so perfect body unlike many other females he was surrounded with. If he did this to Maria there would be nothing to grab. The pinches did not hurt, but their intent made it brutal to her.

Nisha was taught not to give in to an 'eye for an eye' rhetoric, but now was a time she was desperate to show her backbone.

Without looking, her free hand moved to the other side, her right shoulder dipping as she reached to his side to give him a similar sensation, except it was meant to be painful, not playful. A small sound escaped his full lips, and Nisha was ready to feel triumphant, but his hand grabbed onto her wrist. She finally dared to look down, her eyes widening seeing what damage she did.

It was not the problem of damage, but where this area was. It was his upper inner thigh that she decided to pinch, and based on the sound he gave it may have been much better for him than she anticipated. Her hand slid away, mortified by her own actions.

Taking this mistaken invitation, Arturo's hand reached in her direction again, this time pinching along her growing hips. At times she felt mild pain and at others, she jolted in pleasure. It was perplexing what his intent was, but when she decided to look at his face again, his lips held a full smile, happy to mess with her once again.

Nisha did not like this game Arturo decided to make for the both of them, so she wanted to stop him one more time to give him the message.

Her free fingers knocked the hard cast, a sly smile of her own emerged on Nisha's face. She endured his meaty touches for a few moments longer, now her own eyes looking straight to the bishop. The old man's eyes were looking straight to the back of the congregation, meaning his attention would not be in her. Why should she feel guilty though, Arturo was the one who started it!

With whatever strength she could muster in her weakened arm, she swung at full force to the man on her left, hitting his mid-section at a fast speed. Glee was what she felt first, seeing his actions towards her stop as he folded halfway from what she did to him. She wasn't sure if anyone noticed, but he did cough a little. Her happiness was fleeting as a strong pain erupted throughout her broken arm.

A low groan escaped her lips, rubbing her cast as she regretted her choice of action. Maybe her father was right, getting even was never worth it. With all the noise the pair made it was a wonder that the sermon continued, and no one told them to stop horsing around.

Clearing his throat, Arturo sat back straight and crossed his arms. For the rest of the service, he left her alone much to her relief.

After the benediction, Nisha jumped out of her seat and sped to the outside hall of the church. If she was meant to stay here for at least twenty more minutes she would do so hiding from the dark forces of Gasparini.

There was a lack of internal lighting in the halls of the church, but Nisha admired the stained glass windows under the natural light. The men and women depicted came to life through the streams hitting them. She quietly threaded through the stone floor watching the intricate details of Saint Paul preaching, Abraham and his son Issac on the mount sacrificing the ram. Her free hand moved to touch the glass Moses, parting the Red Sea for the Hebrew slaves. The cold texture on her fingers was cooling, her body temperature lowering from the anxious high Arturo's presence usually made her. 

The picture of Moses was older than the others, she knew because of the style used. He wasn't as refined as his newer counterparts, and there was more than one Moses shown on the glass, the first smaller leading the Hebrews out of Egypt, and the second a bit bigger with hands up as the sea was parted. It reminded her of a comic she would read back home, every action shown just a bit differently. 

Though she did wonder about the amount spent for such detailed works to decorate the church, her thoughts were ceased as she walked towards another window in the corner of her eyes. It was a secluded corner of the church, dimmed compared to the rest. A kneeling bench was placed below the grand window held onto the foundations of the stone building. 

Nisha went to the dark corner alone, her eyes holding onto the image before her. It was David, bestowed in his kingly glory, in his right hand a small harp, and towards his left a beautiful woman holding onto his hand. The inscription of the woman's name left little to imagine, 'Betsabea', one of David's wives and probably considered by many to be the most famous one. 

She stood still for a few minutes, holding onto her broken arm as her honey eyes scanned every detail of the window. Rich blues and purples donned the main outfits. Reds, golds, and greens were used for the smaller details of the harp, sandals, words, even the eye colors were filled. In her awe she did not hear the sound of footsteps heading in her direction, nor did she pay attention as the figure stopped near her. Her eyes were on Bathsheba, who was beautiful beyond words. It was no wonder David went mad for her. 

"I thought you were trying to hide from me." 

Though she paid him no mind, out of habit her hand formed a fist at his voice. Her eyes moved back towards the second king of Israel, her father would always say David was a man after God's own heart. If so, then why did he commit such an evil act? She knew the answer, but it still unsettled her just how fickle the heart can be. Her free hand opened as it went to ghost over her own heart, giving a silent prayer to not give in to temptation no matter how delightful or beautiful it looked. 

"Are you pledging your love to me? I think it would be better to look me in my eyes when doing so." 

Nisha rolled her eyes (asking the Lord for quick repentance for doing so) as her hand fell back in place. She turned to Arturo's laughing face, eyes narrowing to his taller figure. What a toad. 

"Haven't you bothered me enough for the day?" The laughter died seeing her serious face glaring up at him. 

"You know, I can spend all day messing with you, and I still wouldn't get bored. It's fun to see your brows crease together, that cute nose scrunch up in anger." His fingers went to touch her button nose, but she was quick to dodge it. 

"What is it that you want, Arturo?" Her words were gritted, keeping in mind to call him by his first name from the last encounter dealing with his name. 

"You just look so beautiful in these lights, the blues and purples shining on your hair." His pretty eyes held onto the majestic sight, under the vibrant lights Nisha was a sight to behold, pure and angelic, untainted by the world. 

"Right, if that's all then I'll take my leave." Her feet were quick to walk past him, but his hand was fast to hold onto her broken arm. The grip wasn't tight or threatening, but it held her in place.

"Okay, I get it you are being serious." He turned her in his direction, his hands moving to hold her shoulders in place. 

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I know these past few weeks I made it hard for you. You are...just so fun to tease! Still, I want us to be friends. Please, let's start over again. I want to call a truce." 

To say Nisha was bewildered would be an understatement. Not once did she expect Arturo to ever apologize for his sordid behavior, nonetheless calling for some 'truce'! Did he expect her to just brush all his actions under the rug and start anew? 

"Why?"

His face morphed in amused confusion, "What you mean, why? Should there be a reason to call peace between two people?" 

"That didn't seem important to you thirty minutes ago when you were grabbing me." She shoved his hands away from her, thinking this was just another ploy of his.

"You're right, and I'm sorry for doing that too. It was wrong for me to touch you in the middle of the sermon." 

"At all. It was wrong for you to touch me at all." 

A sigh escaped his lips, "Yes, yes. It was wrong for me to do it. I admit I crossed the line by doing that." He took both her hands into his own, lightly pulling her to his embrace again.

The light shined brightly on the window, both their figures drowned by the rich colors. If one were to take a picture out of context, Nisha and Arturo looked like young lovers in a church, ready to make vows to one another. 

"Why is it important for us to suddenly have a truce?" 

"I'm not used to people not liking me,ciccino. I know I may have caused the rift between us, but please let us be friends now. I cannot bear to think that we may never be friends." She threw him an unimpressed look as she pulled her hands away, but his grip tightened stopping her actions.

"Arturo, not everyone is going to like you. That's simply a part of life. We don't have to be friends, but can still be civil with one another."

A slight laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head, "It's not so easy. Either you're with me or against me. I have known others who did not like me, and even when I tried they never wanted to make that peace." 

"So what happened to them?"

"They disappeared, vanished out of my life." There was a lack of emotion in his voice, the coldness struck her to the core standing all the hairs on her body to attention. It didn't sound like they merely disappeared. Many thoughts raced through her mind wondering what he meant, did he have them taken out? That wasn't possible, he was only a filmmaker, not a mafia member they show in the movies. 

Seeing her stillness, Arturo was quick to clarify, "Oh, Nisha, you don't think I did anything to them do you? It wasn't as if _I_ took them out. Your imagination is too wild! I only mean that they are no longer a part of my life, you know, we just never see one another." 

Failing miserably, she tried to give a smile and nod believing his words. 

"O-of course. You know how wild the young mind can go. I'm sorry if I offended you." 

A flaxen curl fell over his eye, ruby lips still wide, "You didn't. You just need to be led the right way." His slim fingers moved to comb through her soft dark locks, "Nisha, I solemnly swear from this moment on to be a good friend to you. We will get along and you will never have to worry again about my antics anymore." 

So he was being serious about this, being her friend. Her gut instinct was telling her no, he was only playing with her emotions once again. Nisha's mind reminded her of a lesson her father once told her years before when she was bullied in primary school. It was hard, but her father said forgiveness was needed to move forward in life. Her classmates did apologize eventually, and though it took a lot in her she forgave them for their mean comments on her skin and hair.

Her mind was telling her this was a similar situation, although Arturo was never spiteful in mocking her physical appearance like her classmates, he was apologizing for his actions. He seemed sincere, so it was only right for her to accept and forgive his past actions. 

"God says we shouldn't swear." His small smile changed slightly, it wasn't a smile anymore. In her naive mind, Nisha took his mocking sneer for a bashful admittance of his wrong. 

"Do you forgive me? Can we now be friends?" 

A huff escaped her lips, she looked down at her shoes contemplating her final decision. 

"Yes, I forgive you. And we can be friends." She gritted her teeth saying the last part, her gut filled with butterflies as she pondered if it was the right choice or not. 

His sudden hug surprised her, pulling her into a warm embrace in a kind way. His hands stayed around her shoulders, hugging her tightly as her hands laid limp to her sides. His warm lips touched her tanned cheek, causing her body to tingle in a foreign way like when his hand grazed her earlier during service.

"I'm so happy! Now that we are friends, there should be no more strife between us. I still may tease you, I'll admit that, but nothing terrible, God is my witness." Nisha forced one last smile on her face, trying to show her agreement with his words. She could only wonder what it meant to be his friend.

There was the strike of a clock, hung high in the tower adjacent to the church, it was old yet still carried the booming sound for all to know what time it was.

"Look, Arturo, it's time for me to leave. My father must be looking for me. I'm very glad that we are friends now too. I'll see you later." She did not give him much time to register what she said, briskly pulling away and running to the open doors twenty feet away.

The young man watched as her cherub face turned away from him, her womanly legs running in strides towards the full light shining outside the walls of the ancient church. His hands went into his pockets, standing there for a moment before turning to the image Nisha was staring at before his arrival. 

From a young age, his father instilled in him the importance of coming to church and congregating with the members, the importance of being a Catholic. He only knew the basics from his childhood, but it remained with him as he got older. When needed the Bible did give rather intriguing stories that had him stop and think for a moment. 

Arturo gave a half-smile on looking towards the monarch couple, remembering the story of David and his wife. He would often think of the encounter like it was a movie, a fatal romance he would love to make. He closed his eyes, recalling the story in his way. 

David, the beloved King known for his wisdom and talent in music and poetry, going off to his quarters to relax after a long day. He's changing his robes, walking onto his balcony to take a breath of fresh air. In the midst of his peace, he hears a noise not too far off, looking down to inquire what is going on so late in the evening.

Alas, in the moonlight, a beautiful woman alone bathing in the water on a cool evening. His eyes could not look away from her figure, unbeknownst to the audience she garnered in her intimate moment alone. He took a deep breath, watching her hair glitter in the water. 

Her face turned, probably feeling the stare from an unknown area, and David's heart sunk. She was fairer than he first thought, the most beautiful woman he ever laid his eyes on. 

And she was married. This fair lady was Bathsheba, the wife of his faithful soldier Uriah. She belonged to another, but at that moment David did not care. He was overtaken by lust, he must have her. Calling over his servant, he called Bathsheba to his quarters and bedded her. 

She was with his child and he sent Uriah to his death. The power sending off the poor man holding his own death wish! 

While Arturo did vaguely remember the following consequences that followed David for the rest of his life, it was only because of how messy he was in taking action. Arturo wasn't used to not having something he wanted. His father gave him the world as a child, and there was always a woman by his side when he needed fulfillment. Nisha, she was different in many ways, but like David, he couldn't look away from the wild girl budding before him. 

His fingers twisted and turned the velvet ribbon in his pocket, a secret smile on his face remembering her face as he took it. This string of her's would be enough, for now. 

His cornflower eyes lingered on the powerful couple a moment longer before strolling out of the church, shielding his eyes from the light outside. 

It would be clear to many that Arturo did not grasp the meaning of this famed story, you can only try to hide so much from man, but God was always there, taking note of the displeasing actions of His children. David was careful in causing the death of his loyal servant, but God was watching, and the demise the king felt after taught him to not give in to his lust again. 

If Arturo wasn't careful, then he too would be at the mercy of God in the end. 

~~~

The clock struck eleven on the dot, but Nisha did not see her father. He was probably with the mayor speaking still, but they would always just do that, speak of different matters. She let out a shaky breath as she walked down the stone steps, eyes watching the small crowd of church members having lively conversations of their own. 

Her heart felt free after leaving Arturo, whenever he was close everything was heavy. She stood by the small bushes surrounding the statue of Mary, cradling baby Jesus on her arms with a smile on her face. 

She winced feeling the pull of her broken arm, promising herself to not use it again with so much force. In her pain, she moaned to herself, close to cursing that cad for starting it all. 

"Nisha, I'm so glad to find you!" The short girl looked to her friend wearing the pretty bright yellow dress, bringing out her amber eyes. Her heels clicked on the stone as she walked in perfect strides to her injured friend. 

"Maria, how are you? What did you think of the service?" Nisha stood a bit taller, but her frame was not perfect as she places one foot behind the other, bending her ankle idly. 

"I'm good, but I could do better. The service is the same as always. The bishop is so old he can't think of anything new to say. I think they should just get rid of him for a younger guy if I am honest." The younger girl laughed at her friend's comment, the nonchalance of saying such a controversial statement. That was Maria for you, she had strong opinions but her delivery made it all so flimsy. 

"I was looking for you, were you looking at the windows again? I swear Nisha you have the interests of an old woman. If I didn't know better I would think you are an old person in a young body." Maria huffed as she watched her friend with judgmental eyes, wondering what was so special about some old art. 

"I was, I admit. Arturo also came and we spoke a bit." Nisha took note of the sudden stiffness of her tall friend. "Did you? What did he say this time?" The contempt was not hidden, even Nisha knew at this point the jealously her friend felt. If she had a choice, she would rather Maria receive his attention. 

"He wanted to make a truce. He wants us to be ...friends." 

Maria's eyes widened, "Really? Just friends?" It was hard to hide her smile knowing now that she has a chance. Maybe she was overreacting before, he was only being friendly to Nisha. 

"Did you accept?"

"Well, yes. I wasn't sure of what else to say." The tall girl's pale arm wrapped around her small friend, a full smile emerging on her painted lips. "That's good. It's always good to have a man like Arturo in your corner, don't ever forget that." 

Maria walked Nisha further down to the front of the parish, in front of the big car that belonged to Mayor Gasparini. He was the only person who could afford such a car, other than his son of course. 

"So, what plans do you have for your birthday? I know it's in a couple of days." Nisha gave a thoughtful look towards the flowers growing on the floor. They were small dandelions, dancing with the light brush of wind blowing. 

"I usually just spend time with my father, nothing else." Maria's smile started to dim a little, "You're turning sixteen and telling me you don't have any plans? We must do something now. How about we spend the day together instead?" 

The dusky-skinned girl did not understand the importance of the sixteenth birthday, it was just like the others. "I'm not sure Maria. My dad doesn't get to stay home too often and he makes sure to take the day off just for me. And there's nothing great about being sixteen, we're still in school, going through puberty. What's there more to celebrate?" 

Maria crossed her arms, giving her friend a stern look, "You spend too much time with your father. People will begin to say things if you don't watch out. I think he will understand, you are his little girl. Just ask him tonight, we'll just hang out and celebrate your birthday so at night you both can still spend it together." It was funny that she always had ideas when it came to anything but school, Nisha remembering all the times' Maria would look clueless in class. 

"And just so you know, there is something special in turning sixteen. I remember my sixteenth birthday, I wasn't a child anymore. I felt different, more mature. I woke up knowing I was a step closer to becoming a woman!" 

"You and your obsession with being a woman! Why can't you just take things slow? There's going to be a day you'll regret growing up so fast." Both girls became silent after the quarrel, neither able to look at the other. 

Hearing the sound of multiple footsteps running, Nisha looked up and saw the Mayor's younger children running to her. She gave a small smile, they were nice to play with when she was stuck at the mansion. A thought ran through her mind wondering if they were only Arturo's half-siblings, hence the reason that she never saw them interact together. Hugging little Gino with her right hand, she looked back to friend's sullen face. 

"Look, I'll ask my dad tonight about spending the day with you. If he says yes, we'll celebrate...my becoming a woman." Nisha felt defeated in this battle with Maria, but she was so excited about her birthday. She wasn't used for others to be super happy about her birthday other than some family members. 

Maria gave a soft nod, a smile coming back on her face. "That'll be great. I hope to hear from you tomorrow." She bid her friend goodbye before walking back to her own family. 

If she was vigilant about her surroundings, she would've seen the familiar leather shoes peeking near the statue of Mary. She would've noticed the figure leaning on the statue, arms crossed with a knowing smirk on ruby lips. 

That's the thing about Maria though, she was never one to pay attention unless it concerned herself. And that may be her downfall in the end. 

~~~

The rest of Sunday was spent with the Mayor's two young children, Gino and Elena. They were toddlers, aged three and four years old. For being so young they had a good grasp in English and Italian, Nisha had no doubt it was the Mayor's doing. 

She would engage in playing with them in some dress up, and also tea time. They were quick on their feet, making messes and running away as they pulled Nisha's tangled locks. She would've gotten annoyed with them, but it was hard seeing Gino's pretty lashes and light blue eyes, and Elena's pretty chestnut locks hiding her cherub smile. 

Being the youngest in her family, Nisha was not used to playing with children younger than her, but it was a delight. It gave her the chance to forget responsibility for the moment and indulge in child's play in a way she couldn't remember. 

All she could remember from a toddler was hot days in the sun, chaos, and mayhem. She could see flashes of people running, all screaming and fighting for their lives. The screams of horror and determination. Familiar warm hands grabbing her toddler body, a loving embrace she barely could recall. 

She could still remember the bloodshed, on her clothes, and around her.

Before allowing herself to engulf into her past and lose the present, she shook her head. The last thing she needed was to be consumed by her past. Her first few years may have not been the happiest, but she was thankful for her present.

Gino jumped in top of her, causing the remnants of her past to wash away as she playfully groaned. "Ah! You're so heavy, are you attacking me?" The little boy laughed as his sister joined in the ambush, grabbing onto Nisha's leg. 

"Come on guys, get off! I'm not your prey." She couldn't help but also laugh loudly, her hair splayed on the floor as she tried to move them off of her. She pried Gino's stubby fingers off her arm, but it was hard with one less hand. Her best bet was to sit up and hope they would slide off her body.   
  


Struggling at first, in time Nisha began to get up and stand straight, but the toddlers hung onto her tightly, refusing to set her free.   
  


What was it with these Gasparini's touching her? Though they were innocent children, she couldn't help but think that this was a trait all three of the Mayor's children had with her, claiming her of sorts as their own.   
  


Awkwardly with a child on her leg, she walked towards the main parlor while holding onto Gino from her right hip, her hand wrapped around him as his fluffy light brown hair tickled her neck. 

Mayor Gasparini was nowhere in sight, but Cecil was in pleasant conversation with Valentina, the mayor's wife, and Arturo. The trio were all sitting around the plush chairs with legs crossed and teas in hand.   
  


Though they were speaking Italian, the small children decided to interrupt in English, " Mamma, look, we climbed a tree!" It wasn't quite the truth, but Nisha was sure if she saw herself in a mirror the imagery would be similar.   
  


The poised woman sitting on the furthest end of the couch turned to her children, giving a strained smile. Makeup was caked on her face, but Nisha was sure without it she would be around the same age as Arturo, definitely _not_ his mother. 

"Yes, you climbed a ...short tree." Her English wasn't as smooth as Arturo's, but her accent sensually wrapped around the words. She would be the foreign woman in England that men would go crazy after, tall, slim, and pretty with a killer accent. Elena was a carbon copy of her mother, with chestnut hair and pretty brown eyes. 

"Ora scendi da lei e vieni qui. Ceniamo presto." Her polished nails were open, beckoning her children. The toddlers, mischievous in nature, shook their heads and clutched Nisha tighter. 

She gave a bashful smile, her eyes moving to her father. His sea-green eyes were contemplating for a moment, but when they met her cognac gaze a friendly smile was given. Her heart sunk a bit wondering if anything was wrong. 

Next to him was Arturo, sitting still with a mild smile on his face. As promised earlier he did not bother her in the least (not that he was given a chance to), and even his gaze towards her wasn't the least bit sinister. If she was being frank, Nisha couldn't tell what Arturo was thinking, he put a shield over his emotions.

His pretty eyes were on her figure though, staring straight at her. Her smile shrunk, trying her best to not think the worse of him. It was only earlier in the church that he was improperly touching her, and she wasn't sure if she should even tell her father about it. He seemed to be on good terms with Arturo, and the last thing she wanted was to cause a rift in whatever business her father had in this house.   
  


Suddenly, he stood up, his tall body limbering towards her. Out of momentary fear she hugged onto Gino a bit tighter. 

"How about you two get off pretty Nisha here and climb on me? I think I'm a much bigger tree than her." The delight was felt as Elena let go of Nisha and went straight towards her older brother, but Gino wasn't ready yet.   
  


Nisha saw Arturo plaster the familiar fake smile on his face, the one he would show Maria whenever she would bother him, opening his arms out for his little brother. "I promise I will not bite. If you want, Gino you can be on the top." Hesitant for a moment, Gino finally conceded and loosened his grip on his new playmate and went to his brother, who put him on top of his shoulders.   
  


In no time both children were laughing and swinging on the handsome man. If Nisha didn't know better, she would think at that moment it was a father and his children.   
  


The only thing that stopped that thought from being true was the distant look in Arturo's eyes.   
  


Nisha turned back to her father, wanting to leave and have some peace of mind. "Daddy, I'm going to get ready for dinner." Her father's gaze moved from the tall male to her, giving her a quick smile and a nod allowing her to leave.   
  


Climbing up the grand stairs situated in the center of the end of the parlor, Nisha couldn't shake the unsettling feeling overcoming her. The feeling of someone watching her every move. Mid-step, she turned back only to see her father in conversation with Valentina, and Arturo occupied with the pair of children.   
  


Reaching to top, she shook her head not wanting to engage with her thoughts that her gut was telling her to listen to. 

  
  


~~~

  
  


Dinner was pleasant, the Gasparini's chef made coda alla vaaccinara. Cecil told his daughter after dinner that it was a dish popular in Rome, an oxtail stew that was considered iconic. Nisha did enjoy the dish, as she did with many dished that the chef made in her past two months of being in the Mayor's home. 

She could not deny her desire for food from back home. Shepherd's pie, a big roast, even some homemade bread. These fancy Italian dinners were great but nothing would replace the food at heart. She couldn't wait to get back home and eat some roast lamb and potatoes. 

Her father decided that they would retire early in the evening, giving both of them time to turn down and get a good night's rest. 

Nisha walked into her father's room in her cotton nightgown, reaching down to her toes with her hair damp from her bath. She struggled to bathe with a broken arm but still did her best to wash her long hair.   
  


Her father was sitting in front of the fireplace, the light reflecting on his face. He was in his sleeping attire, he had the same pajamas for the past fifteen years. His thick black hair was neatly combed, and his robe was tied tight to his body. Out of routine, Nisha sat between his feet, giving him her old comb to untangle her locks for the evening.   
  


Most evenings for them were like this, quiet and peaceful. Nisha pulled her knees to her chest as her father gave light tugs to her hair. 

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?" His mind was elsewhere, just going through the motions with his daughter. 

"You know my birthday is coming up in a few days. Since everything is a bit different than usual-"

"Oh, you don't have to worry, my little bear. I will still spend the whole day with you like always. We may be in a different place but that doesn't mean anything else will change." Guilt seeped in Nisha's heart hearing her father's fond nickname for her. She almost wanted to abandon the whole plan now knowing her father wanted to keep everything the same.  
  


"About that...", Nisha turned to her father, stopping his soothing movements as he looked at her with concerned eyes, "my friend, Maria, you know her, she was thinking that I could spend the day with her. We would just go out and spend the day around the area. I said I'll ask you first since I know we always spend my birthday together." She twisted her right hand around her dress, wrinkling the material. 

Her father gave a nod, thinking for a moment. Nisha did not want to disappoint him with this news. She wasn't going to give the big excuse that Maria gave, he was going either allow her to go or not. It was up to him at the end of the day.   
  


"I see. My darling girl is growing up." He smiled at her, touching her cheek fondly. Her father's face had sharp features, but whenever he smiled softness covered everything else. 

He rose from his seat, pulling the chair adjacent to his close, "Come, I should speak to you about something first." Even though she knew she did nothing wrong, Nisha's stomach would always become a nervous pit whenever her father wanted to speak with her. He already told her about the lesson the bishop gave today, about the calling of the disciples to follow Jesus. 

What could this be about?   
  


She sat on one chair, and her father on the other. "I know that you're turning sixteen. That's a big year for young girls." It seemed to be the sentiment of the day and took all within Nisha to not roll her eyes at her father. It wasn't his fault, more-so Maria's, but she couldn't grasp the importance of sixteen.

"From a little girl I've seen you grow up before me into a beautiful young lady. You may still run wild as you did ten years ago, but now you're older. Your body is changing in ways I never thought it would do just yet, and I know now is the time that you will start looking at boys, and they are looking at you." Nisha watched the water filling her father's eyes, not once did she see her father cry before. Many emotions overcame her, wanting to also cry. 

"Nisha, I know you are a smart girl, I trust God that you're going places. Just remember 1 Peter 5:8: 'Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour'. I know that these boys will come and offer you the world, but just remember that not all things are as good as it seems. They will trick you into doing things you shouldn't. They may say, 'if you love me you'll do it'. If they love you, they'll wait." 

The confusion was clear on the young girl's face, the conversation going from one extreme to another, "What are you talking about dad?"

Cecil gave out a deep breath, unsure of how to bluntly tell his daughter what he wanted to say.   
  


"Okay, I'll try to explain in another way. I know that men are watching you, and I do think you know too. I hope you would tell me if anything were to happen, but I trust you enough to tell me on your own. I know that these men are charming and can offer the world, but they only want one thing. Once they have that, you would be left in the dust. Nisha, don't indulge in the devil's dance."   
  


"...what?" The atmosphere went from heartfelt to awkward, Nisha wasn't sure of what the 'devil's dance' was. 

Cecil covered his face with his hand, unsure of how to word it out to his daughter. 

"Sex, Nisha. I'm speaking about sex. These men would try to woo you now, seeing your growing body and try to seduce you into having sex. They will say anything now but when it happens, and if a baby comes in the picture, who knows what will happen next. I don't want that to happen to you, you have too much in store for that."

Her face drained in color, embarrassed by her father's statement.

"Dad! Why would you even think that? I'm not gonna have sex with anyone anytime soon. I'm not even interested in anyone!" 

" I do not think you'll do that, but as your father, it is my job to tell you about it."

Her face was buried in her dress, still in disbelief that her father had to bring up such a weird topic. There was more to it though, he admitted that he knew something about Arturo, and he was waiting for her to just tell him what it was.

She would've if only Arturo didn't make that promise of starting anew. Nisha knew it would only be right to give him the benefit of doubt and allow him his second chance. 

"Daddy, I promise that you'll never have to worry about that." Her father's face was serious for a moment, before giving a small smile and hugging her.

"Of course, I know I raised you right to not just do that. Whoever you end up with in your life dear, I only pray he loves you dearly and treats you well. You're a gem, and deserve nothing but the best care." She smiled into her father's cotton shirt, taking in the familiar faint scent of his old cologne of sandalwood.   
  


"I suppose soon I won't even be getting these hugs anymore." He gave her a tight squeeze before letting go, kissing her forehead.

"Goodnight dear, sweet dreams. Don't forget your nightly prayer." She nodded, leaving to her room with a satisfied smile. 

  
  
Going to her bedside, she knelt putting her hands together, letting out a short breath thinking of what to say. Usually, she would speak to God with reverence, He was the Creator after all. 

Too many instances happened today for her to think of the best way to say it. Her father told her as a child that Jesus was a friend, and right now if there was anything she needed it was a friend to listen to her troubles. 

"Lord, first and foremost I would like to repent for any wrong I've committed against thee in thoughts, words, actions, and deeds. Please forgive me for playing around in church today. I did not like the way Arturo was touching me, there was no other choice but to get back at him. I know it was wrong of me, but I understand that fighting 'eye for an eye' leads to nothing." 

She cleared her throat, thinking of the best way to address her next issue, "God, you already know of my thoughts and troubles concerning Arturo. He has shown ill intentions to me from the beginning, and things had only gotten worse till after service today. Lord, you know all of our thoughts and intentions, I believe that. You know if Arturo has good intentions in keeping his word towards me. All I can ask is for Your will to be done. If he is lying to me, please let it all be revealed. Help me to be vigilant towards his advances and actions. Like my dad was telling me earlier, let me be aware of my surroundings now that I'm getting older. Bless my dad and me, Aunty Beatrice and cousins Nora, Emilia, and Tom. Let us all have a good night's sleep and a peaceful night's rest. Thank you, in the name of Your son Jesus Christ of Nazareth, amen." 

She was quick to jump onto her bed, with the lack of warmth from the fire her body began to shiver. Hugging the pillow like the night before, she sighed closing her eyes. 

Today was a long, tedious day, and Nisha could only hope that she would get a good night's rest. 

As the moonlight shone through her window, she fell fast asleep, dreaming of a better tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everything makes sense in this chapter and there aren't too many grammar errors. 
> 
> If you all have any questions about the story, feel free to ask on my Tumblr: https://thewritingamateur.tumblr.com/
> 
> Hope you all have a goodnight!


	4. Fifteen Going on Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Nisha's big day, but somehow Maria and Arturo take over and cause a ruckus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say I'm sorry for it being so long, I couldn't help myself *laughs nervously*
> 
> There will be a lot of crying Nisha in this, so be warned.

Waking up early Thursday morning, Nisha expected to feel slightly different. Every year, she would always wake up expecting to feel a whole year older than she was before. Some years the difference was there, through her height, the changes in her body, little details on her face, just small things she would notice on her own. Other times, like today, she would feel nothing, just a bit sleepy from waking up.

Washing her face, she took a long look in the mirror. Her hair was the same, maybe just a few baby hairs emerged on her hairline. Her skin was starting to clear up nicely, which she was happy for, the last thing she wanted was to go through another year of having pimples on her face. Her jaw was slimming down, the roundness of her face started to shed just enough to show the beginning of maturity. Her button nose, small heart-shaped lips, and almond-shaped cognac eyes were still the same. She gave herself a small smile combing her curls into a manageable state.

After getting herself ready for the day, she went through her father's room to get her purse she left there a couple of nights before. She was uncomfortable in her attire, her favorite puff sleeve button up plaid dress that she had for the last two years. The problem occurred around her bust, it was a bit snug. Speaking of it, she couldn't help but constantly try to pull her bra around her back, the tightness around her chest becoming a bit much. She squared her shoulders before retrieving a pin to keep a gap in her dress close.

Maybe she did change overnight but simply didn't accept it as fact yet.

Smoothing out her dress, she saw the fabric purse her aunt made for her sitting on her father's nightstand, right where she left it. It had a pretty floral pattern with a light blue backdrop. She smiled seeing a white envelope sitting beside it, her name written in neat script. She opened it with quick hands, seeing the pretty card her father got for her. The message was simple:

_ Nisha, _

_ I do hope you enjoy this wonderful day God made for you. Have fun and do remember, you're special. Don't ever forget it. No matter how old you are, you'll always be my little bear. _

_ With love, _

_ Daddy _

She held the card close to her heart, a tear ran down her face. She did wish her father was here, they both would eat breakfast together and spend the day just playing around.

Wiping her face dry, she went down to the dining room to eat a quick breakfast. It was eight in the morning, the toddlers did not wake up yet and by now Arturo, the Mayor, and her father were long gone doing their duties for the day. She only ate a piece of toast and butter, knowing her time was limited before meeting Maria for their outing.

Nisha was curious about the plan Maria had for the day, it should be an easy answer but there was a small hope that maybe, just maybe, Maria would do something that Nisha wanted. Although she was intrigued by the city life, Nisha didn't care to run around shops all day looking at items she could never afford.

Even though her father was a diplomat, Nisha was never one to ask for much money from him. He would not give an issue if she were to ask, but there was guilt when asking him for leisure money while he worked so hard. She knew if he would think or had known beforehand about Maria's possible plans, he would no doubt have left her some money with the card.

All she had in her homemade purse was about 25 lira and some extra change in case she wanted something to eat. Looking at her pleather watch, she started to make her way out of the mansion. There were about twenty minutes before she would start her adventure with her friend, all she could hope for was something fun and exciting.

Walking down the dusty road, she kept trying to fix her bra pinching her skin. This was not good, not even a bit. She was glad that it would only be her and Maria, if Arturo was there it would be an open invitation for his hands to wander.

Nisha shook her head, no she said she'd forgiven him, he turned a new leaf. Trying to maneuver to soothe the pinch, she narrowed her eyes seeing two figures a couple of hundred feet away. One was Maria, she knew because that was where they agreed to meet, but she was not alone.

The closer she and gotten, the butterflies in her stomach multiplied. She saw the familiar automobile, the one that took her to the hospital for her broken hand all those weeks ago. Her eyes looked down at her harden cast, only two more weeks before it comes off.

Now, only twenty feet away, there was no denying the extra guest to the girls' outing.

How did he even know? Did Maria invite him?

"Bunny, happy birthday!" Maria ran up to her friend, giving her a big hug. Nisha reciprocated the actions, but her eyes were trained on the sturdy figure leaning on the automobile.

Arturo's smile was nothing less than pleasant, pushing himself off the hood sauntering towards the short girl. Her smile remained mild as Maria still held onto her shoulders.

"What he is doing here?" Her voice was not loud, but she knew Arturo would've heard her voice.

"Well, Arty thought it would be nice to take us about to celebrate your special day! He offered and said it should be a surprise, so surprise!" Her hands were out showing off Arturo like he was a trophy of sorts.

"Happy birthday ciccino. I hope this doesn't damper your plans." Her smile was tight, "Of course not Arturo. I'm ... I'm glad you could make it. Thanks for choosing to spend the day with us."

She wondered how exactly he knew about her birthday, it wasn't as if she went around broadcasting it, but she knew who would.

Angry eyes glared at the unsuspecting form of elegant Maria. How could she just tell Arturo about it, and plan this 'surprise' without even considering how her friend would feel?

He pulled her in for a hug, chest hitting his abdomen. Nisha's cheeks flushed feeling the movement of his chest on her own, the pinching of her bra became like needles, pricking her a hundredfold. She wanted to scream in pain but she couldn't, so stiffly she pushed him away.

"Thank you, both of you," her honey eyes swept both Arturo and Maria's forms. They looked like models and she was their third wheel. Arturo wore a slim fitted red knitted short sleeve shirt, hugging his biceps tight while showing off his wide shoulders. Tucked in his dark slacks he was nothing less than perfect. Maria was also refined in her dark blue sailor dress, no doubt new since the style only recently started to become popular.

Holding her beloved purse tightly, Nisha kept her smile small, "So, what's the plan for today?" Maria was quick to link arms with her friend, walking her close to the dark automobile. The sun was beating down, both girls tried to shield their eyes from the brightness.

"Well, I was thinking we could go into the city and shop a little, bunny you have to see what new dresses they have you'll just adore them!" Nisha did her best to hold the smile on her face, Maria in her obliviousness kept rattling on about the new in-season designs that were gracing the new edition of Vogue, "Just think one day I could be on the cover of that magazine! The epitome of the fashion industry." Nisha stifled an eye roll, while Maria did fit the proportions of a model, and her face was a mirror of young Rita Hayworth, there was much doubt that she would be the front of the famed magazine.

"I'm sure you will sweetie."

Maria was quick to open the front door to take a seat, but Arturo stopped her tracks, pushing her aside to the back, "The birthday girl sits in the front." Though the huff was given, no whining was heard from the tall girl. Nisha stepped into the car, not saying a word as Arturo decidedly buckled her up. His golden curls lightly tickled her cheek, her face reddening by the lack of distance between them.

He gave her a gorgeous smile, his left dimple popping out before closing the door. She crossed her ankles together as she watched his quick strides to the driver's side of the vehicle, noticing the bounce in his step.

Starting up the car he pulls off onto the opposite side of the road, "So, are you ready for your big day?" Nisha was paying attention to the fields with cows grazing the grass, a small heard some miles out. "I guess, Maria has everything planned out."

Hearing her name, Maria chirped about all the boutiques she wanted to shop in, "Nisha you would love Madame Giuliani's designs, she does beautiful lacework and has the best chiffon. We need to get you a dress from there. You always wear the same thing over and over again."

An uncomfortable smile spread on Nisha's bee-stung lips, "I think I'll take a raincheck on that." If Maria heard, there was no comment made as she kept rambling about all the different materials she wanted to try on. Her voice became background noise through the twenty-minute ride into the city.

Nisha was quiet, giving absentminded nods to Maria's words. Her gaze was straight ahead on the empty road, keeping focus to not turn to Angelface. The nickname came up as she felt his constant brief gazes on her form. She didn't feel uncomfortable like she usually would but at ease. There was a silent agreement between them, a secret pact that she hopes would never be broken.

At the moment his hand found her fingers peeking out of the harden cast, lightly rubbing them in comfort. Her brow rose finally looking in his direction. Arturo was looking straight ahead, a smile spreading on his face getting her attention. Leaving her hand in place, she was permitting him to touch her in a friendly way; nothing more, nothing less.

"Maria, will we do anything other than shopping for you on Nisha's day?" Maria stopped her jabbering to think for a moment, "Not really. If Nisha wants to do something we definitely can."

**_How generous of you_** , Nisha gave a silent huff knowing that her own passions were not going to be met.

"Well, I do have a little something planned after then, if that is alright with you, of course, coniglietto." Arturo looked at his beauty with expectant eyes. She was quiet for a moment, his heart started to beat fast. It was a foreign feeling for him, reacting nervously towards any female for something so small. He was used to making the decisions, not asking others what would be best.

Giving a slow nod, cognac eyes looked into his sapphire gaze with warmth. Her shield was still intact, hiding all she felt towards the situation, but he was glad that it was warmth (or what little of it) he was receiving over repulse. Her fingers slightly curled onto his strong ones, "That's fine."

Nisha wondered what Arturo had in store for them, would he take them to some fancy restaurant, or drive off far away from Florence on a whim? Many ideas passed through her mind as she idly removed her hand from his and began to draw shapes on her dress.

Puffing her cheeks, she only wished her plans would have been fulfilled, but like everything else about today, giving in would be her only option.

~~~

Four hours passed, and their only proof of time spent was the bags of clothes that Maria purchased in various shops. Scarves, shoes, dresses, and makeup were all filled to the brim, Arturo forced to carry the bags along the busy streets.

Maria was the happiest among the trio, dancing along the streets in the rhythm of a song playing in her head. Neither Nisha nor Arturo had the slightest clue what that song would be, but she was moving to it window-shopping from one place to the other.

Nisha was quiet, watching in mild awe at the beautiful clothes that Maria picked out. All the shops they entered were detailed in grand interiors, reminding her of miniature museums with the poses of the mannequins and paintings hung on the walls. Even if mere reproductions were entertaining her, she was glad to at least feign being where she wanted to go. Her eyes were pulled in the direction of the grand building in the furthest end of the street, the stone stairs leading up to the grand works of Michelangelo and de Vinci, sculptures and paintings from hundreds of years that held cultural significance throughout the Western hemisphere.

While she did want some of the items she saw in the shops, with her lack of financial resources she forced herself to be satisfied in the beauty of it all. What did make her happy was Arturo's obvious annoyance towards Maria. He did hide his pretty eyes behind dark sunglasses, but Nisha saw the ticking in his jaw as Maria paraded around the stores trying on all the merchandise. He was unusually silent as Maria would constantly ask for his opinion, giving a closed smile and a slight nod.

By the fifth store, it was clear that Arturo was no longer able to entertain Maria's lavish spending. They entered the shop, it was the one Maria was speaking of earlier in the car. All eyes were drawn to the chandelier in the middle of the ceiling, intricate in its three-layer spiraling shape, giving the high-society ambiance of the boutique's clients.

Maria went straight to a blood-red dress donned on a mannequin posed sitting elegantly. Nisha walked around the big store, her friend was right these were the best in all the stores they went to. The dresses jumped off the pages of Vogue and were in the physical, she was hesitant in touching the material fearing it would lose value with her tainting it.

She perused all around the store until she stopped, her feet remained as a boulder stuck to the floor, unable to move even with the utmost strength. There wasn't a moment that Nisha understood Maria more than in this one, her breath taken away with the masterpiece in front of her.

The dress was off the shoulder, lace ruffles capping the short sleeves and top of the bodice, a pale orange rose sewn onto the middle. The dress was the color of daffodils, the bodice silk, and the skirt layers of tulle flowing out with a small opening for one's leg to peek out. It was a dress made for royalty, and the ability to view it was a privilege in itself.

She did not know how long she stood there, just staring at the marvel of the unknown designer's work, but her trance was disturbed by the forces of Arturo, pulling her hypnotized gaze onto his shade covered eyes.

"Nisha, almost thought I lost you there." He turned to look at what held her attention, a low whistle escaped his lips, "This is quite beautiful."

Taking a step back, his hands went to his hips, looking Nisha from the ground up, lips widening with each inch. "Perfetto, sembreresti una bellissima principessa con questo, mia bellissima principessa." Her brows furrowed confused by his foreign words, but stopped him as he came to encircle her waist, "What are you doing?"

"You're getting this dress." Cognac eyes opened wide hearing his assured tone, giving a low giggle while shaking her head, "You're very funny Arturo. I cannot afford this if you remember. It is beautiful, but looking at it would be more than enough for me."

"Let me buy it for you."

Removing herself from his grip, she walked away to another dress, "No, Arturo, I will not accept that. You cannot just waltz in and say you'll buy me a dress."

"Why not?" He pulled off his shades walking bigger strides to match her, "There is absolutely nothing wrong with my buying you a dress!"

"Everything is wrong with it! Don't you see it? It isn't normal for some man to buy a young girl a dress just because..." She wrapped her right arm around her left shoulder, understanding the implications it could lead to.

"It won't be just because, as you say. It is your special day, not Maria's. You should have whatever you wish, even this dress. Besides, you have nothing to worry about. Friends buy one another things all the time."

"They do?" She never heard that before, but many of her friends were of a similar economic status as herself. Nisha saw his impending figure approach her once again, sticking his glasses in the square pocket of his shirt as his fingers were quick to fasten themselves on her waist.

Her honey gaze remained on his face, breathing relaxed as his fingers rubbed her sides in a slow, circular pattern.

"Yes, ciccino, friends buy things for one another all the time. When one is in a bad predicament, it is normal for their friend to help them out. Just consider this a token of my friendship, and a beautiful birthday gift." His blue eyes searched her own, serious in his logic of the situation.

"It is quite expensive for a birthday gift." Her right hand found itself on his bicep, feeling the smooth skin beginning to tense under her touch, becoming taunt and strong in a matter of seconds.

"Well see it as an 'I-owe-you' then. Remember when I ruined your dress the night of the party where we formally met? Just see this dress as a replacement." He was adamant about getting her the dress, that much was obvious to her. The question was why was he so fervent on it, what point was he going to prove?

A small ticking in the back of her mind made her wonder what her father would think of an older man buying her such an expensive item. His warning from nights before rang clear, this could be a trap.

She shook her head, no she promised that she wouldn't think ill of Arturo. Nisha turned to the dress one more time. It was beautiful, something beyond her imagination.

"Your intentions seem kind, and I am thankful for that. Unfortunately, I do not have any place to wear it. A dress like this is meant for a girl like Maria, who can appreciate and wear it like it deserves to be."

"Don't worry your pretty head about that, tonight is the perfect occasion."

_**What occasion?**_ Before Nisha had a chance to question his meaning by tonight he went to call a clerk to help them out.

The woman who came was dressed in a dark blue skirt suit, a uniform many other women were wearing while working with the clients. "Mr.Gasparini! È un onore avervi nel nostro negozio. In cosa possiamo aiutarvi?"

"Vorrei questo vestito, per favore." Arturo finally released his grip on Nisha as he started to walk with the salesclerk.

Nisha stood in place, looking around the art painted on the ceiling, a Renaissance-style sky with little angels dancing all around.

"È per la signorina laggiù?" The clerk was watching the two's interactions from the moment they entered the boutique. Now, it wasn't unheard of for Mr.Gasparini to treat his female company to occasional gifts.

Even so, this was different. Usually, Mr. Gasparini would arrive with only a girl like the one who went for the red dress, pretty in a conventional manner, meant to be in his arms for a social event. His actions were always polite, waiting on whichever girl held onto his attention for those few months as she tried on the outfits and would sit back waiting.

While this girl with the cast was more on the cute side of the spectrum, and her darker complexion did bring eyes her way, it was her age that brought the most concern. She seemed younger than the other girl they came in with, but Mr. Gasparini was open with his affection towards her. One could infer that she was family, a distant cousin from the south, but the differences between them could not be more painstakingly obvious. The young girl kept hesitating as he came close, a sense of muted fear.

The clerk, Antonella, was never wrong about her instincts. This time it was telling her that something was wrong. Though the young foreign girl did seem agreeable to the games of the filmmaker, there was something not right about the way he looked at her.

"Sì, è la bella per il vestito." His smile was wide, eyes lit up as his gaze was only on the girl. Antonella turned to watch the girl stare up to the ceiling, her awkwardness clear for to all see. She did not belong in the store, that much was certain.

"E lei è...?" The clerk tried to make her tone as light as possible, making sure to not sound accusatory. If she made the wrong assumption it could cost her this job.

Arturo was not aware of the clerk's worries, answering quickly, "È il mio tesoro."

A placid smile spread on her face, "Ahh...", her gaze went down before looking at the dress again. It was their best piece in years, many clients vying for the prototype yet none were able to obtain it. Many were rich socialites that wore the dresses once then throw away to the dust.

Madame Giuliani made it clear to all the shop clerks that this dress was not made to flounce around once in only to discard later on. Being the dress she made for her daughter who ran off with her stableman lover, it was dear to her that whoever ended up with the dress was not only buying it because it was merely beautiful. Her hard work, her love was stitched onto the seams, and she would damn anyone who would think little of it. All who dare to don on the dress were subjected to pictures that the Madame would see before choosing if the buyer was worthy.

Antonella worried that Madame Giuliani would be upset for allowing the young girl to try on her work, that it was an elaborate prank her worker was pulling before having to throw her out. Giuliani was known for her no-nonsense approach which helped her come up the ranks over the years.

Looking back that the expectant eyes of Mr. Gasparini, she gave a nod before walking towards the young wandering girl. Who was she to say no to the mayor's son?

Nisha was pulled into the direction of the dress by the clerk, not uttering a word to her yet had a pleasant smile on her face. It was probably out of courtesy that the smile stayed on, but the young girl watched the hurried steps in black heels draw her to a closed room beyond the gallery of clothes, lit by vanity lights with two chairs on the end and a circular platform with a mirror in front.

"Lei parla in Italiano?" The shaking of the young girl's head brought a grimace through Antonella, her English was limited but could do for now. Her wrinkling hand led the soft-skinned girl to the platform, setting her to stand straight.

"Take off clothes...I will..", her hands made a gesture around her waist, "check you." She turned her back to the girl, walking back to the front of the store. Standing still for a minute, Nisha sucked on her bottom lip before choosing to comply with the lady's command. She knew that pretending to not understand the clerk may only lead to Arturo's intrusion, which was something she could not let happen. Thankfully there was a thick black curtain covering the fitting room from the rest of the store.

Slowly, she allowed her nimble fingers to undo her buttons of the old dress, setting it aside on the chair. She looked in the mirror, her ivory bra and panties were on display. Hands were quick to hide the small pocket of fat on her stomach, but as her eyes drifted up so did her fingers.

No wonder her bra was so tight, her bust was ready to climb out of it! Her cheeks darkened in a rosy hue, flashes of embarrassment shot through her spine not believing her eyes. How did she not notice this earlier?

Her mind was not on the dress anymore, how would she tell her father about it? Usually, when it came to her undergarments her aunt or female cousins were the ones to help. It wasn't as if she would simply call them on the phone for some help. Trying to speak to the clerk also looked to be a dead-end, not because of the language barrier but of the actions given. She would look at Nisha as an impudent girl who could not even dress well enough, so poor that she needed to wear ill-fitted bras.

As her mind pondered upon her current dilemma, she did not take note of the clerk's stiff walk coming back into the fitting room, in both hands the beautiful dress.

Antonella left the girl alone for a minute, it seemed best since Mr.Gasparini was not allowed in the ladies' private quarters of changing.

She walked confidently towards the pale yellow dress, trying to ignore the young man's impending strides in her direction.

"Se la sta cavando bene?" His eyes were full of wilted flowers, desperate to know of the girl's whereabouts.

The practiced smile never left her lips, "Certo, Sig. Gasparini. Sa che dobbiamo portare tutte le ragazze sul retro per la prova."

"Sicuramente avrà bisogno del mio aiuto. Sarebbe difficile per te parlare con lei senza capire la nostra lingua." His hands went from pockets to fold in front of his strong chest. Frustration was starting to seep through his façade.

"Parlo abbastanza inglese per aiutarla da sola. Non preoccuparti, è in buone mani. Se non fosse un cliente abituale, signor Gasparini, penserei che stia cercando di dare un'occhiata alla ragazza in uno stato vulnerabile." Even with the attempt of levity, Antonella was struck with a sharp shard of fear seeing his eyes quickly turning from mild concern to anger. She knew the anger was not accusatory in blaming her for making a ludicrous implication, but for calling him out like a child whose hand was in a cookie jar.

Clearing her throat, she excused herself as she carefully removed the dress from the mannequin, aware of his harsh gaze on her frail form. In all her years of working as a shop clerk, no client ever cast her such a look of hatred as he suddenly did.

Her fear transferred from herself towards the thoughts of the young girl she was helping. Who was she, and what was it about her that made Mr.Gasparini feel that way? She knew if she mentioned it to anyone it would be the end of her life. Angering the Gasparinis was one strike against you, but to spread it for all to hear? You would pray to Madonna for her Son's mercy in getting a quick death.

She passed through the black curtains, turning back once to make sure no one was behind her, and kept her dark eyes on the figure of the girl. She held back a tut seeing the lack of undergarments. She tried to detract from the mere sight of the girl's small clothes, instead, she put the dress on the chair, carefully folding the bottom to not touch the floor. Pulling the measuring tape from her front jacket pocket, she began to measure the girl's assets.

Nisha tried to figure out the numbers the older woman muttered under her breath, but the fast words went through one ear and out the other in a matter of seconds.

She did not have the talent of reading upside down, so she would just have to wait for a moment when the paper was unattended to see why the older woman was fretting around with each measurement.

Taking the dress back in her arms, the clerk loosened the back of the dress a bit more before helping the short girl put it on.

"Hold in your tummy." Taking a deep breath and straightening back her small shoulders, she did her best to hold in her stomach. As the strings started to tighten, Nisha winced feeling the pulls on her skin. Was this what Maria would always go through when trying on a new dress? How did she like this process at all, pulling her waist smaller than it already was?

For several minutes Nisha stood in agony waiting for the pulls to finish. She thought that sitting with the two ladies was bad, but this was a hundred times worse with her insides being squished together.

In the end, she would not give that breath of relief that she desperately wanted to, the dress not allowing her that luxury. She felt the wearied fingers tying the big bow in place on her lower back.

Eagerly, she wanted to turn around and see how she looked in the dress, but her movements were stopped.

"No, not yet. First I need a picture for Madame. Then I say when." Complying, cognac eyes watched the retrieval of a folding camera from a locked cupboard above the empty chair.

"Smile." Trying to not overthink it, Nisha thought of her home in England, pretending that it was her father behind the camera wanting to remember her birthday and put into their photo album. She wasn't donned in lace and silk, but her peasant blouse and dirndl skirt, the sun shining down with a soft breeze blowing in her hair.

The flash from the camera did not startle her, keeping her pose for a moment longer as the clerk gave a satisfied smile before leaving once again. She didn't even bother to tell Nisha if she could look.

Wanting to see the outfit badly, the young bunny did not dare to turn around. For all she knew, the lady was only being nice just to make a big sale out of Arturo, accommodating Nisha just for some nice commission. She probably looked horrible in the dress, her torso being too short and wide for it unlike Maria's. Tears began to mist in her eyes, but she held them back. If one drop fell on the dress it would be ruined forever.

Instead, she craned her neck towards the paper laying on the chair. Tentatively, she took a step down from the platform. Lifting the dress with her right hand, she walked small steps to the paper, looking down at the numbers written down for all to see.

Her face returned to the rosy hue from before, she prayed that no one beyond this room found out. Turning the paper over with her left fingers, she went back to the platform facing away from the mirror. Maria would be shocked hearing those numbers, probably telling her how she needed to use her body as a woman if she was going to look like one from a young age.

Recalling her last measurements from months before, how did it all change so quickly? Why did her aunt not tell her anything about it?

She smoothed out the dress before biting her short nails, nervous for what was in store for her.

~~~

Madame Silvana Giuliani was a busy woman. From the moment she woke up till falling back asleep, her mind was always occupied with her business or family. For the past twenty years, she thrived to become a top designer among the masses of men trying to overshadow a woman's touch. Though many would consider the center of fashion in Italy to be Milan, it was her Florence boutique that held the epitome of lavish European fashion for big stars and the top one percent of the world.

Working hard wore her to the bone, but it was all worth it. Seeing her beautiful designs donned on pretty figures and the center of attention for details and hard work was worth it all to her. Now, she was tired. For years she would work hours on end building her empire, her clientele, and coming up with a monstrous amount of layouts to come to life. It was all in vain, she always wanted to be on the top, but along the way forgotten just how lonely it could be.

The once bright-eyed girl who looked at the world through naïve eyes was now a bitter woman, without her husband or children in sight to show support. Her husband left ten years before after being caught with a woman half Silvana's age, taking half of her fortune too. That did not take the spark out of her yet, she still had her children to strive for. Marco and Paola were her worlds, she would do anything for them. Marco grew up into an exceptional young man, becoming a doctor and head of his department. She was proof that her toil was not in vain, but Paola...poor Paola.

Silvana's head would always hurt when thinking of her beloved daughter. There was nothing she wanted to do more than create exquisite outfits just for Paola, with her pretty sable hair and moss green eyes. Those eyes came from her father, who was of German ancestry, while she had inherited Silvana's dark locks. They were always close, two peas in a pod-like those Americans would say.

Then one day, she left, just like her father. The girl barely turned eighteen when she ran off, leaving a sparse note saying she would have eloped with their stableman when the letter was read, and to not search for her.

For weeks Silvana called all she knew, going off deep into the country to see her daughter just for one last time. She was not angry, just deeply hurt. What did she do so wrong as a mother for Paola to abandon her like this?

She had lost her inspiration, her soul, with her child gone.

All she had left was the beautiful dress she made for her birthday, yellow was her daughter's favorite color, who had often danced along with the flowers as she sun would shine on them on earlier days.

Seven years had passed and not a word ever came her way. Her son knew nothing of his sister's whereabouts either. It was four years in that Silvana forced herself to stop caring, becoming bitter with the rest of the world for the loss of her child.

It was only four months ago that she gained the courage to part with the last piece of her daughter, when it would leave her the thoughts of Paola would finally leave her be. She did make strenuous efforts in keeping the dress for as long as she could, that the last piece holding the two together could not be cut yet.

All the clients interested in the dress would have to fit it first, that was east enough seeing that it was made with the ribbons molded to form. A picture was then taken, it must look right on them too. Not just in beauty, but intent. From all the years she worked with clientele of all backgrounds in the upper classes, many were vain and materialized one's hard work for a few hours, often tossing the attire after the long night. This dress would not have the same fate! It was worth too much to be taken for granted.

No, the would-be owner of her dear design would need to be different, delicate in handling her last piece of happiness. Hundreds came to try it on, looking beautiful in it without doubt, but whenever she saw the picture, her heart would turn to stone.

She spent thousands to keep her a small black room to develop the pictures quickly, usually on the hour, many were forced out the dress. She did lose some favored business relations for such callous behavior, but she could care less.

Threatening her staff, if anyone else dare wear the dress and was not fit for it, they would be immediately fired.

That being said, Silvana was sitting in her impeccable office, full of old busts, awards, and photos of her designs gracing the cover of international fashion magazines, and a mannequin wearing her new piece.

She was surprised to hear the knock on her door as she was concentrating on sewing the inseam for the unfinished sea green dress. Bidding them enter with a grunt, she was surprised to see Antonella who entered her office with a photo in hand.

Of all her staff, Antonella was the only one who understood her notions, not allowing any of the women she fitted to try on the dress. She did not do her work for commission, but to help women look their best. There was a silent understanding between the two that was lacked with all the other clerks.

She was the closest figure to a friend for Silvana.

"Chi è? " The older woman gave a weary smile, holding onto the photo with steady fingers.

"Bene, signora, sono Gasparini." Her sewing stopped midway hearing that wretched name. Putting the needle in the dress, she got up, walking to her desk in contemplative steps. With trembling hands she shoved everything off her desk, a scream was heard outside the corridors of the office hidden on the second floor of the boutique.

Out of all people who could have asked, did it have to be him? For years, both Vincenzo Gasparini and his son Arturo were regular clients of hers, bringing whatever women were draped on their side for that season. Despite their business relationship, she despised with all her being.

They stood for a corrupt government, doing as they pleased behind closed doors and hurting the lives of many. Her closest experience of it was her brother, who she kept a distance from after he began to work with Vincenzo at a young age. She could remember a handsome young mayor who vied for her affection as a young teen girl. She almost fell for his charming looks too before seeing the cruel man he really was. Seeing him beat a poor man in the alley one day gave her a dose of reality, realizing that no matter how dreamy he was, a violent man wasn't what she wanted.

Still, he was civil with her, so she tolerated him and his money. Silvana saw similar features in his son also, charming several young girls with the dresses and jewels. There was something off about him, making him more off-putting than his father in her sight. The light was never in his eyes despite the smile he would offer. The look of indifference struck a nerve in her, making her realize that he is maybe even worse than his father. While one was outwardly violent to get his way, the other would go through cruller means to prove his point.

Not looking at Antonella, she held her hand out for the photo. Which floozy did he bring this time?

Pulling a cigarette with her other hand, Silvana was looked towards the image with passive eyes, thinking it would be the same as all the other candidates.

The stick that was put between her lips fell to the floor, eyes widened at the sight beheld on the black and white ink.

This was it. She was it.

She always heard the saying that a picture is worth a thousand words, dismissing it as an easy way to get rid of the written art. Seeing the image of the girl wearing her prized work, it made everything so clear.

All her burdens were lifted seeing that smile, one from a young girl in the bliss of childhood. Her fingers began to trace the figure of the young girl, memories of young Paola flooded back to her mind.

Her mouth was gaped open, but no words seemed to form. The girl had her hands behind the dress, head tilted to the left. The shoulders were loose on her, yet she filled out the rest well. The big curls framed her small face, adding to the look rather than making it seem unkempt.

Blinking a few times, she brought herself back to reality. Pictures only showed so much. She had to meet this girl, whoever she was.

"È ancora di sotto?" Her eyes looked towards Antonella, who had her smile towards her boss's reaction.

"Sì, mi sta aspettando in camerino." Putting the picture down, Silvana fixed her lilac blouse and smoothed down her powder blue skirt, holding her head up high before walking out the room.

Both women walked in a line heading straight towards the black curtain.

In their small journey had small obstacles, two as a matter of fact.

Focused on meeting the mysterious girl, Silvana barely heard the shrieking voice of a young girl, "Madame Giuliani, Madame Giuliani! È un onore incontrarvi di persona. Sono una grande fan dei vostri abiti." Her eyes turned to the tall girl coming up to her in the blood-red dress she made five months before. The red silk was form-fitting, pulling otherwise understated curves. It was beautiful on the girl, but she was wearing it only for the pleasure of it, like a shiny toy a child would hold for a couple of hours before throwing it away.

Silvana gave a curt smile, nodding the girl's way.

"Ti prego, lascia che ti faccia da modella! I miei genitori sono i Mendolas che ti pagherebbero per fare vestiti solo per me." Her smile fell hearing the vain words, had young people lost all sense of shame.

"Ragazzina, anche se sono felice che ti piaccia il mio lavoro, dovremmo vivere in un altro universo prima di fare di te una modella. Un bel faccino non può portarti lontano."

Maria stood frozen at the Madame's words, shocked that anyone would speak to her so rudely. Who was she anyway, just making these flimsy dresses? It took all within the chestnut beauty to not rip off the dress she had on currently, conceding to the humiliation that was handed to her from one of her idols.

So much for shopping today. Stomping her feet, she went to change out of the damn dress, this would be the last time she would ever be in this boutique!

Collecting herself once again, Silvana began to walk further to the back. Trying to bring herself back to focus from the immature brat, she was taken off guard as a hand came out to stop her.

"Madame Giuliani, è un piacere rivederla! Come state voi, e vostro figlio... Marco, vero?" Arturo's hand was open for her to shake, it took a moment for her body to react, shaking his hand while faking a smile.

"Siamo a posto. Cosa ti porta qui oggi?" She watched with hawk eyes as his slightly trembling fingers combed his dark blonde locks back. A nervous Gasparini? This was a new scene.

"La mia amica, una cara ragazza, sta provando uno dei tuoi vestiti. Sono sicuro che è bellissima. Purtroppo, non parla italiano, così ho pensato che sarebbe d'aiuto se andassi a tradurre. Quando ho cercato di spiegarlo alla sua assistente, mi ha subito accusato di comportamento malevolo." His voice escalated from calm to tempered, his eyes darkening while looking behind Silvana to the older assistant.

Stepping in front of Antonella, the Madame brought back his blue gaze to her, "Mi scuso. Me ne occuperò più tardi, ve lo assicuro. Per ora, mi occuperò del vostro giovane amico." For a moment he held onto his dark glare, before finding himself and gave a curt nod.

Keeping the smile on her face, she walked away, heading to the fitting room on her _third_ attempt.

Just before she was in reach of crossing into her hidden world, she stopped abruptly. Turning to her right, she pulled Antonella into the small room with sewing supplies.

"Perché ha accusato il Sig. Gasparini di intenti malvagi? Non sa cosa le farebbe per un'accusa del genere?"

She knew Antonella well enough to suspect her of any evil intent. There had to be a reason she would be bold enough to confront Gasparini for his behavior.

"Sembrava impaziente di andare dietro le tende. Non l'ho mai visto così nervoso di essere via con una ragazza che ha portato in. C'è ovviamente qualcosa di sbagliato nella sua immagine. Quando ho fatto il mio commento, che era inteso come un semplice scherzo, sembrava colpevole. L'unico modo per saperlo è chiedere alla ragazza."

The older woman breathed out after pleading her case. In hindsight, it was wrong for her to ever make such a comment to any client, no matter how they may behave, but her gut was never wrong.

"Quando gli ho chiesto prima, l'ha chiamata il suo amore. Questa ragazza non è nemmeno fuori della sua adolescenza per l'aspetto di esso!"

Silvana nodded to her worker's concerns, there were important points made.

And there was only one way to know the truth.

Assured in her actions, she walked out of the room to the curtains, ripping them open like a child on Christmas morning.

Her world started to move slowly as she saw the girl before her now, staring straight at her with a small smile on her face. Silvana started to see Paola in front of her, smiling as she did all those years before.

She walked up to the young girl, "Hello dear, I'm Madame Giuliani. May I ask your name?" Her English was refined like wine, having an American twang from working in Hollywood for months on end.

Nisha watched the beautiful woman before her, her dark eyes weary yet vivacious. "It's very nice to meet you, Madame Giuliani. I am Nisha, it is an honor to see you." Unsure of how to properly greet the designer, the short girl attempted to do a curtsy, almost losing her step.

Silvana found herself laughing for the first time in years as the girl before she did a clumsy bow. Her voice was soft and humbleness was endearing. She was a foreigner alright, but a welcomed one.

"It's alright, you do not have to worry about facing a queen like in your home country." The girl's blush complimented the colors of the dress well.

Her eyes went to the girl's left hand, watching the worn cast with curious eyes, "And how did you get this?"

"Oh, I fell off a tree a few weeks ago." Her sheepish admittance to the playful act brought the whole ambiance of her innocence on the eve of womanhood.

She walked around Nisha once, eyeing how the dress looked from all angles.

"There are many people who are drawn to this dress, but they often have different reasons for doing so. What is your reason, Nisha, for liking this dress out of all the others?"

She watched the girl's pondering, her eyes looking up to the ceiling finding the right words to say.

"Well, my friend decided to come here saying your store is the cream of the crop of fashion. I was only looking at first, since I cannot afford any of your clothes by any means, and I stopped in front of the dress. It is very beautiful, something that came off the pages of a fairytale. My intention was to never wear it, seeing that it may not desirably fit me, but I was urged by another person who is with us."

"Is this person Mister Gasparini?" The girl nodded, "Yes, he urged me to try it on."

After going full circle, Silvana's heels stopped right in front of the platform, "I see, it must be quite an occasion for him to willingly spend so much money on one dress." Her eyes trailed over to the chair with the dress and a bag. She walked over, her hand tracing over the fabric bag pattern before touching the dress. Both were old, worn down and patched up.

Sentimentality, it was a nuance nowadays in her circles.

"It is my birthday Madame, though I was more than happy with just looking at the dress, he was more than excited for me to try it on."

Slick heels padded the glossy tiled floor, "Would you say that you both are companions?" 

The girl's uncomfortable laughter gave it all away, "Companions would not be the right word." 

Nisha swallowed air seeing Madame's expectant gaze, wanting her to elaborate on what Arturo's intentions were. She was not sure if that would be the right choice. The Madame could be close friends with him, telling him all she said and then who knew what would happen to her! 

Even with fear flooding her mind, there was a voice in the back of her mind saying it was alright, she could be trusted. 

"I only came to Italy a few months ago with my father on a business trip. It was all fine until Mr. Gasparini started to come around more often. I would tell him no every way I could, but he is rather...persistent. If it wasn't for his attempt to making amends and starting things fresh between us, I would not be here right now."

Hands on her waist, the famed designer listened intently to the words, blinking for a moment before coming close to the girl, fingers going to the sleeves falling on her arms. 

"This looks wrong." Silvana looked at the ill-fitted bra straps on the girl, "Did your mother not tell you about wearing the appropriately sized undergarments?"

"My mother died years ago, all my female relatives are back home." The sadness from the young girl's voice caught the stone chord in Silvana's heart, her breath stopping for a moment. 

Uncharacteristically, she wanted to pull the girl in her arms and tell her all will be fine. The poor child needed guidance from a mother, to tell her of the dangerous ways of men. 

Clearing her throat, she called over her shop clerk, "Antonella, portami un reggiseno, biancheria intima e slip che vada bene per questa ragazza. E per favore, sii discreto." 

With a curt nod, the clerk moved with confident steps to get the items needed. 

Passing the front again, she took notice of Mr.Gasparini's worried pacing back and forth. The unscrupulous girl from before was sitting down with several bags surrounding her feet, a twisted snarl covered her pretty face. 

"Ms. è stata in quella stanza per un bel po'. Sarà mai finita?" Antonella gave him the same fake smile as before, "Sì, Madame si sta solo assicurando che tutto sia perfetto, sai quanto è dettagliata. Entro un'ora sarà finita." 

Unconvinced, Arturo had no choice but to nod before allowing the clerk to go her way. They never usually take so long for a fitting, what was happening in the back room? 

Nisha was helped out of the dress and into the undergarments in no time. She never had anyone help her dress as she started puberty, so goosebumps were fresh on her skin as the designer was quick to make sure everything fitted perfectly. 

Retying the dress, the young girl's body was not squeezed tightly as before, she was given a little space to breath properly. The Madame looked at the dress with critical eyes, fixing Nisha's hair to the front. 

Several minutes passed by as the girl stood still on the platform, the designer assessing the attire and the clerk holding her breath, praying that all would be well. 

"You still have some years to go. Not a model by any means, and you don't have all the beauty yet, but you will grow into it. This I promise you." She walked around the demure girl, eyes flickered to her mending arm and short nails, wild hair, and imperfect skin, "Yes, a diamond in the rough indeed." 

Her manicured nails went to touch the girl's face, holding her chin between her thumb and index fingers. 

"There is an air of beauty about you, one that came from the old world and cannot be matched by the glitz and glamour of today. The innocence you carry is one sought after by beasts. Don't ever let them take it from you, girl. You are worth more than any man's mere trophy." Her mocha eyes stared into Nisha's reddish-brown gaze.

Silvana may have lost her daughter to one man, but she would be damned first before losing this girl to that Gasparini. 

Nisha watched the tears form in the Madame's eyes, quickly moving away and wiping them before any fell onto her painted face. 

"Come, let's take off the dress. You'll have it by the evening." 

Nodding, Nisha was unloosed by the clerk, and when the dress was off she started to take off the slip as well. 

"Oh no dear, you can keep that." She gave a bashful smile to the designer before her. "That's very kind Madame Giuliani, but I cannot afford it. I also don't think it wise to have to charge Mr.Gasparini for it before he becomes curious." 

Another laugh came out the designer, "Not to worry dear, it's on the house, our little secret. Call me Silvana." From the pocket in her skirt, she pulled out a crème card, "Here, this is my number. If you need anything dear, even just someone to speak to, woman to woman, do not hesitate." 

She wasn't sure why she became so open to the girl, Nisha her name was, or why she yearned to help her out. Her heart was overflowing in a joy that abandoned her years before, the resemblance of that smile was all it took for her maternal heart to flutter. 

Nisha was grateful to the designer, honored to gain such favor for doing nothing at all. "Thank you, Silvana. I promise to do just that." 

Changing into her old dress, she tucked the card into her purse as the Madame walked her back to Arturo, "See, she is in good hands. You do like the dress dear, correct?" Nisha looked up to Silvana, "Of course. Thank you, Madame Giuliani, it is an honor to meet you once again." 

Arturo gave a pained smile before holding onto Nisha's small wrist, "Grazie, Madame Giuliani, per esservi presa cura di lei. Avrei voluto vederla con il vestito."

"Not to worry, by tonight you will receive it. I'm sure she will look like a doll. I must take my leave, ciao." Looking at the young girl one last time, she gave a kind smile before walking away. 

Antonella gave Arturo a small black book, inside the receipt for the dress. His eyes grew in size seeing the price, "This must be a mistake, so much for the dress?" 

"Beh, è il suo bene più prezioso. Rinunciare da solo è stato difficile, e sembra bello sulla ragazza." She cast a lovely smile towards Nisha. 

"If it's too expensive then you don't have to buy it, Arturo. I can always find something else." His blue eyes looked onto her honey ones, open with slight concern. 

"No, no. Anything for you ciccino, nothing would be too much for you." Begrudgingly, he wrote the check for the dress, wondering what was so special about it other than its remarkable beauty. 

Antonella gave one last smile taking a hold of the paper, he may have the ability to order around, but at least Madame Giuliani siphoned quite a bit of money from him.

Nisha watched with glee as Arturo sighed, putting his checkbook deep into his front pocket, "Shall we leave then?" 

~~~

It was mid-afternoon when Arturo decided to take Maria and Nisha to his secret destination. They all dined in a small café for lunch, taking one last look into the bustling city before driving off onto the lonely road for forty-five minutes. Nisha was in a pleasant mood, finding herself a new friend in an unlikely place. Her right hand was out the window, fingers dancing along with the soft breeze blowing. 

Maria was quiet since the boutique visit, her arms crossed and lips pouted in a childish frown. She was never spoken to in such a brash manner before, albeit from a person she admired greatly. Jealousy surged seeing how nice Madame Giuliani was to Nisha, smiling and accommodating. How was it that she was able to charm the hearts of so many?

Maria was rich, pretty, and knew how to act like a lady. Why did her poor, short, and wild friend get all the attention she wanted so badly?

If it wasn't for her birthday, Maria would have fought with Nisha. Everything Maria wanted her friend seemed to receive in abundance. She was supposed to be the one sitting in front with Arturo's handsome gaze on her, flirting about as they went on a date.

In the last few weeks, she became the third wheel to Arturo and Nisha. Even if the latter said they were only friends, Maria wasn't blind to the glances he would send Nisha's way. He bought her a dress, the most expensive one Giuliani had to offer! For her birthday, she was lucky if Arturo even remembered. 

How is it that Maria became the side character to her own story? Holding back tears, she stared at the long grass swaying as they drove by. She didn't have a clue where they were going, but all she wanted now was to relax. Still, the last thing she wanted was for Arturo so see her sour face when they stopped, so her only option was to suck it up and pretend to be happy, if not for her own sake then for Nisha's. 

It was all going to be for Nisha. 

When the car finally stopped, both girls looked around the vicinity with curious eyes. It wasn't like the city, more of a town square with building spaced apart and little children running around. Many of the buildings looked worn down, once spotless white now withered into brownish tints from years of weathering. 

"Follow me." Arturo took hold of Nisha's free hand, pulling her along the dusty road as Maria was not too far behind. Honey eyes watched in awe at the old town, a homely feeling that reminded her of home. It took away from the grand buildings she was surrounded by at the heart of Florence. 

Her eyes were suddenly hidden from the view, a hand covering them. "Trust me, won't you?" A kiss on her forehead had her twisting around like a fussy child, "Where are you taking me?" 

No words were uttered as she was pushed in front of him. Wanting her question answered she stopped walking, but that did little to stop Arturo who pushed his feet under her own, walking both of them further north. Despite his slim frame, he was strong, one must not be fooled by his pretty face. His hands have caused more damage to men twice his size than good. 

After some more steps, he stopped. Letting go of her wrist, he slowly uncovered her eyes, allowing the late afternoon sun to hit her. Squinting her eyes, she looked up at the grand sign saying, 'Sweet Scenes Cinema' in big cursive letters. There were smaller letters for movies in Italian, the top surrounded by lights. Two coliseum pillars greeted them, giving depth before moving towards the gold handle doors. 

"A movie theater?" She didn't mean to sound unimpressed, but what was the big deal about heading to the movies so far out? Nisha loved movies, the cinema was her second home back in Grantchester, often going to see double features when her father was busy at work. 

"Not just any theater. You are looking at the first theater I built three years ago." 

Of course Arturo would have pulled a stunt like this. 

"It's beautiful! How come you never brought me here before Arty?" Maria caught up to them, impressed with his hidden abode away from the streets and high society of their city. 

"Well, it just never came up. You both will have the privilege of a private viewing of my movie, La Strada Verso il Tuo Cuore. "

"What does it mean?" 

"Road to Your Heart" Maria clasped her hands together with dreamy eyes walking forward into the building. Nisha rolled her eyes at the cheesy name. This was one of the movies Maria told her about weeks ago when she broke her arm. 

Walking in, she couldn't deny the beauty of the cinema, the inside held three floors, a mirror of an opera hall. Marble was carved in ancient Roman statues along the walls, depictions of old mythological figures of Jupiter and Juno, Neptune over the stormy sea, Cupid with his arrow over a young couple. 

There was a grand stairway at the furthermost end of the hall, ivory stairs leading up the higher floors. The strong hold on her wrist leads her to the corridors to her right, leading into the seating. The carpets were red, little lights running down the floor. Walking to the middle of the center row, Arturo pulled Nisha to where Maria was sitting. 

Chairs were made of black leather, folding to give space for easier movement. 

Arturo sat next to Maria, and he brought Nisha to his left side. The screen took up the entire wall in front, the biggest one either girl saw before. Putting his hand up, Arturo gave the go for the projectionist to start the film. 

All were quiet as the story began to unfold. The story was familiar enough, a poor girl meets a rich guy. A rich guy falls in love but the family stops him from liking the girl. The girl is threatened and runs away. Knowing where the story was heading at the halfway mark, Nisha leaned her head on her right hand, eyes closing being consumed in boredom. 

Maria was sucked into the film, eyes aglow in the fight for a love that the actors had to face. Oh, to be held in the arms of a strong man, the thought made her knees weak. A smile was brought on her face, forgetting about the incident in the boutique earlier. 

A proud man, Arturo was overall happy with the results of his film. It won critical acclaim from many critics in the Italian sphere and even broke out throughout Europe in award ceremonies. It was only his second film, but many believed if he played his cards right he would break into the American film market, bringing him to the likes of Hitchcock. He met the famed director years before, and they got along well, but he did not want to be the next Alfred Hitchcock, he wanted to be the first Arturo Gasparini. 

A year passed since the release of his film, but no ideas struck in his mind. For the time being, he was directing plays for the national theater. It was a pleasant pass time, but he wanted to create his own stories once again. 

Looking to the girl on his left, he breathed out harshly. It was only weeks before when any ideas began to form, all scribbled on small pieces of paper. Every interaction he had with his coniglietto was memorable in his own right, his mind forming several personal fantasies he wasn't sure would be wise to share in his film. 

Her head leaned onto his chest, she had fallen asleep. It was the first time he saw anyone fall asleep to his movie, though in any other circumstance he would have become upset, a ghost of a smile crept forward instead. 

To Arturo, Nisha was an enigma, someone he had never encountered before.

His thoughts were consumed with her image haunting him, her form running away as he would chase her. At first, he only sought her as a momentary distraction, sweet and small, unknowing to who he was. He was always good at keeping his emotions at bay, not allowing it to interfere in his everyday life.

Soon, the small thoughts turned to imagery, and from there to vivid dreams. Traces of his mind would always linger on her cognac eyes, rich like the burning liquid, pulling him in even if it burned his soul. He feared that what he felt was not just a mere infatuation, but love.

Love was a foreign concept, a word tossed around in his youth yet intangible to grasp. His childhood was full of lavish coldness, empty behind the pretty materials. All he knew was possession, ownership of beauty. Once it was in his grasp, he would never let go. 

His parents never gave him any love, so how was he to know what it was? It was his lack of perception that urged the search of it through romance, he thought that writing these vapid stories of love (of the concept that he could only feign at best through words of philosophers), but it proved naught. His games with other women for their hearts and submission was only that, a game. 

But now, with the tired girl on him now, he questioned everything. He was glad it was dark beyond the screen light, and he was alone in confronting these feelings. Weakness was meant to be cut down, scorched out of his soul if he wanted to rule. 

Arturo touched her face lightly, unsure if he was able to hold onto the control he honed for many years. If his father only saw, he would be spit upon and left for the dust. Despite all his worries, looking upon Nisha's face made it all melt away, he had a hidden notion that it wouldn't matter, as long as he had her in the end. 

And that was the scariest thought of them all. 

His hand dropped, eyes returning to the scene in front, the reunion of lovers commencing the end. Did time fly by so quickly? 

Maria was in tears seeing the final kiss before the credits, oh to have love in that measure! "Wasn't that just great bunny?" Her high pitched voice once again caused discomfort for Nisha, first, it led to the broken hand and now jolted her awake.   
  


She didn't know which moment she fell asleep, but when her eyes became void of the world she was sucked into a black hole, her mind warped into another reality. 

_She was not in the comfortable abyss of the theater anymore, but far, far away, the sun striking down hot on her skin. She was inside an old little house, big windows with a lack of doors. Outside was dry land, a fire open to the sky with many running in terror. Wailing was heard, a babe's cry of sorrow. Her eyes searched for the source, looking ahead to see a little girl with watery streaks down her face._

_The child seemed familiar, yet only by a distant memory. Her skin was dark as Nisha's, brunette curls barely hitting her shoulders, and body covered in rags. Blood was on the floor, seeping from behind the child. Looking further, outside the small room there was a figure, covered in a white sheet, red seeped through the linen, going down until it hit her feet._

_Looking back at the child, her clothes were stained in the blood. Lifting her, Nisha took steps towards the body. Her heart was beating at an infinite speed, the air was ominous as she was mere footsteps away from the deceased._

_The crying stopped, the child's head on her shoulder sucking their thumb. Nisha knew it was a way of comfort since she also does the same when distressed._

_Her hand went down to reach for the sheet, to find the identity of the dead body, but she was stopped. Her body was quickly turned to the other direction with slim fingers holding onto her wrist._

_Her eyes looked up to see those cornflower eyes, and that cruel smile. "Coniglietto, you shouldn't be here. Come, let's take Clara away from here." Her confused gaze turned to the small girl, who opened her little arms in Arturo's direction. Taking the small child in his arms, he leads Nisha away from the body, but she kept looking back, her mind knowing who it was but she refused to utter it into existence._

_The next room was rich in furniture, grand designs of architecture befitting of the Gasparini's mansion._

_"Papa, why does mommy look like that?" Mommy? She looked at the little girl, her eyes were blue almonds, a reflection of Arturo's._

_He went to wipe the child's eyes dry, "Don't worry darling girl, you're having a little brother."_

_Realization hit Nisha before looking into a mirror and a shriek escaped her lips._

_Her once small tummy was round, Arturo's hand resting on it before kissing her forehead. "Yes, we'll be one big happy family." Her hands were quick to itch herself, wanting to rid this dream._   
  


Hearing another shriek, she was awakened from her terrible nightmare. Haziness clouded Nisha's mind as her head started to hurt, pulling herself up from the solid backing rubbing her eyes hard. 

Groaning, she put a hand on her head as she watched the credits on the screen, was it done already? 

"Nisha, how could you fall asleep to such a great movie?!" She watched with annoyance as Maria got up to stretch. Arturo watched her, quick to touch her hand. Before he had a chance she pulled herself away, turning away from both Maria and the damn cad. 

She wanted nothing to do with them for the moment, one did all to ruin her birthday while the other's presence was just a burden. Maybe she should've just kept things the way they were, home with her father. At least then she would've guaranteed a happy birthday.

"Nisha, are you alright? Did you not like the movie?" 

Rubbing her eyes some more, she shook her head, "I'm not the biggest fan of romance if you could not tell by my falling asleep." 

Awkwardness filled the air as the screen turned black, leaving the trio in the dark. 

"I'm sorry coniglietto, I should have asked you what you wanted to watch. Since we still have some time, what is it you want to watch? We have everything the cinema world has to offer." 

Out of spite, she wanted to say nothing, but it would make her more upset at the end of it all. Huffing, she knew she needed to make a quick decision. 

"It's fine, you only assumed since I'm a young girl like Maria, you didn't know. I guess for now...I just want to watch some cartoon shorts." 

Giving a nod, Arturo got up and walked towards the projection room. 

Nisha was left with Maria, who made her dissatisfaction known. 

"Do we really have to watch cartoons Nisha? You're sixteen now for God's sake!"

The young girl remained silent for a moment, asking God to calm her down before screaming at Maria. 

"Maria, since this morning everything we've done was what you wanted. From going around the shops, the café we ate at, even watching this movie. Arturo only put it on because you were so adamant about watching it out of feeling 'honored'. I didn't mind doing any of these things, but why is it the one thing I want to do you criticize me? Hell, you even told him about my birthday and invited him of your own accord. Can't I have my own fun?"

Her voice was slow to anger, just stating how she felt being in this predicament. 

"I never told him about your birthday." It took a moment for Nisha to register her friend's lone statement. 

She turned to her friend with a shocked expression, "What?" She never had a chance to further her question, Arturo was back in no time, bearing small gifts in hand. 

"I hope you like Tex Avery and Chuck Jones. Let's not fight, today is supposed to be a nice day and we all just need to cool off. Here, eat some popcorn it'll help." He gave each girl a box of popcorn, giving the ok to start the cartoon shorts. 

The first few were familiar to Nisha, the characters of Droopy and Daffy Duck flashing through the scene. Many had American references, and although she knew little of American history, the jokes still made her laugh through the physical humor. 

She ate the popcorn, relishing the butter and salt in her mouth. Her breathing was calmed as fingers started to comb through her hair. 

Despite the harrowing dream from before, she was alright with his soothing touch. She knew it was just her mind trying to scare her off from the friendship she was meant to embark on with Arturo. This was not one of those foretelling dreams warning her of what was to come. 

Right? 

Regardless, his motions reminded her of her father, when on a restless night or after a terrible day in school, he would make her hot chocolate as they would listen to the radio, his fingers combing through her hair to calm her nerves. 

With that mindset, she leaned into his touch, soon with her popcorn finished her head rested on his shoulder. 

The cartoons started to shift from innocent flicks into the realm of slightly raunchy. Many were Little Red Riding Hood parodies, and riding hood was not so 'little'. Nisha was never allowed to watch them, her father saying it was too mature for her to watch. Nisha would have spoken up, but Maria's words rung hard, she's supposed to be a bit more adult, so there should be nothing wrong with watching this. 

It first reminded her of what her father told her about men who only want one thing, the wolf going crazy over Red as she was singing sultry and dressed in a small dress. The jokes were funny so small laughter escaped her lips. 

It got better in each one made, Red was quick to run from him, and Wolfie would always get into different obstacles. Her favorite was with the grandmother going after Wolfie, talk about making the story different! She wondered why her father never allowed her to watch it before, it wasn't anything too terrible, and it showed Red winning in the end. 

After an hour of cartoon shorts, it was time to leave. Nisha was snuggled to Arturo, and Maria was back to her happy self once again. Arturo couldn't wrap his head around teenage girls, so quick to change moods with one little misunderstanding only to be alright after a snack. 

Maybe the saying was wrong, the way to a girl's heart was through food. 

~~~

After dropping off Maria, Arturo drove down the road slowly with Nisha in tow. The sun was starting to set, purples and oranges dancing in the sky. Cognac eyes stayed towards the clouds, not paying mind to the stares of the handsome man next to her.

"Coniglietto, I know that today probably was not what you expected. I'm sorry that we didn't get to do anything you wanted." She gave him a sweet smile, "It's fine. Thank you for taking Maria and me out today." 

She looked down at her purse, "It wasn't all bad. Meeting Madame Giuliani was really nice, and the dress is beautiful. Thank you again for that you didn't have to." 

"No, no I'm more than happy that you liked it." His bicep twitched for a moment, "Nisha, did Madame Giuliani tell you anything? You seemed to be in there for quite some time today." 

"Anything like what?"

"Oh, you know... did she say anything about you, herself, me?" 

Her heart started to beat fast as she recalled the words of Madame earlier. Not looking at her purse, she tried to look normal, "No, not anything too much. She was very kind in helping me with the dress. She said I was beautiful." 

Arturo gave a sound of relief, "Ahh, that is good to hear. And do not be surprised, you are very beautiful Nisha." She looked down with a smile on her face, tucking some hair behind her ear. 

Though Nisha did doubt the truth to his words, seeing that people like Maria would surround him with her beauty constantly, hearing Silvana say she was beautiful made her heart soar. She wasn't used to any female figures other than her aunt once in a while say she was pretty, let alone beautiful. She was used to hearing cute, and for the most part thought that's all she was ever going to be. 

Seeing her shy demeanor to his words, Arturo passed his fingers on her cheek in an adoring manner. "Don't be so shy about it. I think you know you're beautiful, you just want me to say it." 

"No!" She laughed at his silly words, "I don't think that. Maria is beautiful not me." 

"No, she does not have the same beauty like you, and you know that. I would trade all my film starlets for you any time, just remember that." The mood change from jovial to serious, Nisha blushing from his intimate words. 

She took a breath before keeping to herself again, looking at the darkening sky before her. 

When they reached in front of the mansion, Arturo told her to wait for him as he parked his car further away. The night became chilly, her hands rubbing her arms trying to create warmth. She jumped feeling his warm hand engulf her, holding her close as he walked her to the door. 

He put his hands over her eyes like earlier, she giggled as he walked her through the door. It was quiet until he removed his hand and flicked on the light. 

"Surprise!!" 

~~~

Nisha was taken aback seeing the large crowd of strangers wishing her a happy birthday. She never expected in her life so many people acknowledging her. 

The mansion was decorated with birthday memorabilia, balloons and confetti strung about. She shook hands with people of all creeds, smiling and biding her well. 

Now understanding why Arturo was speaking of tonight, she said a quick hello to her father before running to change in her dress. 

It was hard to put it on alone, but there wasn't much choice. Her father may not know what to do, and Valentina was lost in the crowd. Arturo was always an option, but she didn't trust him enough yet. She tried to tie it the best she could, which was hard enough with an out of service arm. 

She got to most of it, reaching to the upper half before not being able to do it anymore. She tied it up and fixed her hair. 

After yearning to badly before, Nisha finally got to see how she looked in the mirror. 

The dress was beautiful. The daffodil tone complimented her skin, the flower on the top covering her chest modestly. The bodice showed off her growing figure in a way she never thought possible. 

In bliss, she wore her flats (forgetting about buying shoes) and walked down the stairs. 

The room stopped hearing her footsteps, all eyes were on her. 

She walked down with as much grace her clumsy body could muster, holding onto the rail of the stairs with her broken hand and holding her dress up slightly with her right. 

At the bottom, she was greeted by her father, who had tears in his eyes as he took her hand. 

"You look marvelous darling, where did you get this from?" 

"Arturo bought it for me earlier today." Cecil's face froze hearing his daughter's words. "Oh, did he? He shouldn't have done that."

Before she had any chance to reply, a four-tier cake was brought before her, decorated with roses of all colors. It wasn't until she blew them out that she had a chance to give her father the reply. 

"I know, I told him the same several times. He insisted that it was not a problem and there was no other way for me to tell him no." She didn't want to make her father upset about this, "I'm sorry."

"No dear, you're not at fault. I can understand how hard it would be to refuse him." Cecil gave her an empathetic smile before another person interrupted. 

"Ahh, you must be Nisha." Her eyes moved from her father's comforting form to a tall, older gentleman. His hair was gray and started to thin a little, his form a little on the robust side with a thick pepper and salt beard. The familiar straight nose and ruby lips that told her who this man was.

"Mayor Gasparini, it's a pleasure to meet you." She gave her hand for him to shake, and in the footsteps of his son, he instead took her hand and brought it to his lips.

Arturo was not too far behind, coming close to join the small group. 

"I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, turning sixteen it a big event for a young woman." He put her hand down and clasped his son's back, "Your father and my son only have kind words about you. I'm so impressed I hope Arturo here could find an Italian girl half as good as you, that is of course if he cannot get to you." 

Nisha wasn't sure how to take that comment if the mayor was being serious or not. Hearing her father's laugh, she joined in also. 

"Well, I'll leave you to it then. I do hope we can have a long conversation one of these days. Have a good evening dear." With his last smile, Nisha took notice that it never reached his eyes. It was all just faux pleasantries. Why do this grand event if it seemed to bother him? 

Nisha's father was also pulled away in the midst of the crowd, leaving her with Arturo once again. "Your father seems nice." 

He gave the same cold smile as his father, "I suppose to those outside yes, he can be a nice man." She gave a perplexed look at his words, but before she could ask him to elaborate he was taken away by some young ladies. 

Alone, she looked around at the crowd of people, she wasn't used to this. There were too many people surrounding her and no one to help. Fear started to set in, she felt her lungs wanted to collapse being so close to strange figures. 

Pushing through the crowd, she nearly screamed feeling a hand grab onto her. 

Turning in panic, her honey eyes were frozen before melting into softness. She was surprised to see _him_ here _._

"I can't believe you're here!" She gave him a big hug, being pulled up to the air for a twirl.   
  
  
  
  


Arturo was bombarded with women in a sperate corner of the party. All wanted his attention for a date, kiss, even to star in a movie directed by him. It took several minutes to leave them, clawing over his silk pressed suit like a bunch of wild animals. Dusting himself off of those cereins, he searched for his princess. 

The wait of seeing the dress was worth it, she looked like an absolute doll in the silk and tulle. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms and murmur sweet nothings in her ear, under the moonlight as they confess their adoration for one another. 

He knew his mind was running wild again, so shaking his head a little he looked around the crowded room. 

His eyes scanned for those wild curls, the form-fitting dress, her honey eyes. He pushed other guests fervently looking for his beauty.

The crowd gave space for the dancefloor, classical music played throughout the mansion. There were couples all around, waltzing to the rhythm of the violins and violas. 

Moving closer, his mind began to slow down seeing her curls moving about. He wanted to smile, but an undercurrent of anger came forth instead. 

Arturo did find her, but she was not alone. 

She was dancing, with another man. She was smiling brightly, with another man.   
  
  


She was happy, with another man.   
  
  


Watching the happiness in her eyes squelched his heart, his hands turning to hard fist trying to control his emotions. 

Seeing a tray of champagne come by, he took a flute and downed it in one go. 

His cornflower eyes were ice seeing the scene before him. How dare she give him so much trouble for one dance, yet be willing with this stranger? 

A frown became permanent on his face for the few minutes Nisha was in the arms of another man. As the dance ended, all his tension was aimed at the flute as the stem was trembling between his fingers. She hugged the man and walked away, her smile still intact. 

Being the bunny she was, her feet were quick to move away towards the table of food.

Like a fox to its prey, Arturo walked in stealth steps towards her direction, her back facing him. 

Cruel glee entered him seeing his opportunity for revenge.   
  
  


Nisha was famished, it was so good to see an old face again, her favorite face in the least likely place. She made a note to ask her father if he invited him here. They could've spent more time together, but he was sure that others would want her. 

While that may not exactly be the case, she was glad to have time to eat. Grabbing a tissue and finger food, she quietly watched the many figures dancing about to the next number. 

She was busy with her food, not noticing the steps behind her. She felt fingers ghosting her waist, moving up her back where the ribbon was tied up. 

Feeling the knot she made loosen, there was only one reaction she could offer to save herself. 

The slap was heard across the room, the music stopped, women gasped at the scene before them. 

Nisha's eyes were full of anger, her right hand stinging from the hit she gave. The redden cheek of Arturo was pulsing, she had strong control. 

His face was a straight line, rolling his jaw before trying to open it. 

"I'm sorry dear, I just saw your dress was a bit loose and wanted to fix it for you." 

At this point the music started to play again, the guests were minding their own business. 

Embarrassment covered her cheeks, feeling like a fool for thinking the worse of him once again. This time it cost her some respect in the sight of strangers. 

Needing a few moments for herself, she trembled before running away. Her feet were quick to move in the memorized direction of the only safe haven she had within the walls of the mansion. 

The mahogany doors opened wide, showing the rows of books along the walls of the library. Three walls were filled with books, two big windows straight across from the doors. 

She ran to one of the plush armchairs, sitting down as tears left her eyes. How could she do something so stupid? Not only slapping Arturo but also accuse him of trying to do something ill to her. 

She stayed on the chair for some time, crying salty tears of sorrow from her mistake. 

All day Nisha did her best to remind herself to not think the worse of him, yet here she was now. After all the kind gestures he did today, this was how she chose to repay him. 

Not knowing how much time passed, she looked up as the door opened, shiny black shoes came in her direction. 

It was Arturo, in hand a plate of cake and a white box. Sitting straight, she looked towards him with pleading eyes, he gave a passive glance in her way. 

"Arturo, I'm sorry for hitting you, I had no idea what you were doing. That it was even you behind me, with all these strangers surrounding me I just thought the worse."   
  
  
  
Passiveness transformed into pity, his hand offering her the cake, " There are many strange people around, I'll give you that. You did the right thing, it could have been a strange man trying to touch you in that manner, I did not think of it that way. I'll forgive you for that. Now stop crying, you don't want puffy eyes, do you?" 

She took the plate as his hand was quick to wipe her tears away, fingers soft and gentle in caressing her. He sat on the armrest, his left hand pulling her body close to his, "You have a hard hit, who did you learn that from?"

Her was tongue was lingering on the custard filling of the cake, thick and rich, smooth to taste. 

"This is good." The older male smiled, ruffling her hair a bit, "I learned how to hit from my cousin, we would get into fights all the time when we were little." 

"I suppose he was beaten up quite a bit. I must admit, it isn't very ladylike to fight anyone, albeit a man." 

She kept munching on the dessert," Well there are a lot of things about me that aren't ladylike. Anyway, I need to defend myself somehow." 

"Hmm..." They sat in the silence for a few minutes, Nisha cleaning her plate before Arturo put it aside. 

Standing in front of her, he presented her with the white box, "Happy Birthday Nisha." 

She was not expecting a second gift, but she never expected the first gift either. "This is a bit much, this dress is more than gift enough." She pushed the box away, but he grabbed her wrist, placing the item in her hands. 

"Nonsense, a girl can never have too many gifts on her birthday." Her fingers were quick to open the box, but she stopped herself." 

"How did you know about my birthday anyway? Maria only found out herself barely two weeks ago." 

A brief smile passed on his stoic face, "Forgive me for this, but Sunday I did overhear you and Maria talk about it. I couldn't just sit not trying to do something, so I asked Maria about it."

Nisha was not ready for him to be so honest right off the bat, he was usually a bit more subtle in his reasons. "I see, well you didn't have to do anything but thank you." 

Removing the red ribbon holding the box together, she opened it to find an odd item. 

"I hope you like it." 

She was in awe, pulling from the box a porcelain doll. It wasn't like all the ones that would usually be on display in the stores, it looked like her. 

The skin tone, hair, and eyes matched. Her features were small but detailed to look like a miniature version of herself. 

There was no way he could have this made in two days. 

"Arturo, this is really too much." Her fingers were feeling the glossy black strands of the doll. 

"Why? It looks just like you, I couldn't resist buying it for you. I saw it weeks before and thought of you. Today is your birthday just ended up working in my favor." 

She searched his eyes for any untruth, but none was found, only a layer of happiness that he crafted just for her. 

She felt an overwhelming love for the doll, remembering always wanting one, but her father never having the opportunity to get it. All the other girls had dolls that looked like them, which was something Nisha could never relate to, until now. 

Hugging it close to her, she gave Arturo what could be the first genuine smile since meeting him.

"Thank you, I love it so much." His hands were in deep pockets, the smile never leaving his face. 

"Anything for you dear." 

She closed her eyes, hugging it tightly. Amid her happiness, she did not take notice of how close Arturo had gotten to her, both hands resting on either side of her. 

When Nisha opened her eyes and looked up, his face was mere inches from hers. She craned her neck back, "What are you doing?" 

Her voice was still light, thinking it was still in a playful mood. Innocent eyes looked into deep blue ones, trying to gauge the atmosphere that surrounded her. There was tension, but not one she was familiar with. 

His eyes lacked the joviality from before, replaced with dark remembrance. 

Out of instinct, she began to move up, hoping to fall backward out of the chair. Though she could not recognize the gaze he gave her, her father's worlds screamed in her ear, his voice telling her it was time to run. 

So it was a trap all along. 

His kindness, charming words, even his tokens of good hope were all part of a ploy to get her like this, alone and open for season. 

Seeing her flitter like a scared bunny, Arturo found it hard to hide his smirk. The fox had captured the prey. 

His fingers dug into her smooth shoulders, bringing her close to him once again. Both legs blocked hers from moving about, caging her in his sick embrace. Her mouth opened to scream, but his hand covered her mouth, bending her neck back. 

Terror was clear in her honey eyes, watching his full of cruel amusement. 

"You are, as you Brits say, sweet sixteen and never been kissed, am I right?"

Desperate to save herself, she shook her head fervently, hoping he would let her go. 

"Oh, Nisha, didn't I tell you it is bad to lie. What ever shall we do?" His head bent down to hers, removing his hand as his lips caught hers. 

His free hand held onto her face, brushing her skin in soft strokes. Pulling her close by the waist, she felt his heat on her. 

Nisha never was kissed before, she had no idea about what it was meant to be or feel like. His lips were soft and moist against her own, tender in pulling her to him. Her eyes were screwed shut, afraid of what she would see. 

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, his tongue darting between her lips to open them up. 

She was shaking her head refusing the intrusion, but he pinched her waist, giving him access to her mouth as she yelped in pain. His tongue explored her mouth, tasting the sweetness from the cake she had earlier. 

Scared beyond her wits, her mind went into fight or flight mode. More of fight and flight than only having one option. 

Seeing an opportunity, she bit his tongue, hard. Blood spurted in her mouth, he pulled away from her with a pained scream. Taking a few steps back, he touched the wounded area and assessed the blood. Instead of repulsion, that horrid smirk was back on his face. 

"So you do like playing rough coniglietto. Don't worry, I like that too." Before he had the chance to move back to her, she jumped and ran for the doors, dropping the doll on the carpet floor. 

Not looking back, she ran through the crowd of strangers, all watching as she ran right up to her room. 

Locking her bedroom door behind her, she sunk to the floor crying. Her tears were plentiful as she thought over what had just happened. 

How could he be so cruel to her, taking advantage of her all alone, when she was giving him another chance? Her sobs echoed through the room wishing to forget this day, that her birthday never existed if it was only going to bring her this trouble from here on out. 

**_God, why did he do that to me? Why did he lie?_ **

She wanted to make good terms between herself and Arturo, but he was making it so hard. She wished she could just head back home and forget about this wretched place. 

Staying on the floor for an hour, she collected herself hearing the noise of the crowd dissipate. Wiping her tears away, she sniffled as she started to take off her dress, untying herself and placing the dress neatly on the chair. She would have to find a way to keep it straight as she was heading back home. 

Changing into her nightgown and washing her face free of tears, she unlocked her door hearing her father's footsteps into the room. 

"Nisha, where were you? I was looking for you all downstairs." Closing her eyes for a moment, she forced a smile on her face, "I'm not used to big crowds, I got tired and came upstairs to rest." 

He nodded, starting to take off his suit jacket. "I was not expecting them to throw you a party, or that they even knew your birthday. Did you say something?" 

"No, all I know is that Arturo heard Maria and I talking about it the other day." Cecil nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself, not wanting to tell his daughter anything to alarm her. 

He saw the slap earlier and wanted her to tell him on her own accord. He knew her well enough to realize that she would only deny everything if he asked her, not wanting to cause trouble. 

"I hope today was a good birthday, I'm just sorry we couldn't spend it together." 

She moved to hug her father, nodding into his chest, "Me too, today was alright. It was just different not spending it with you." He kissed her forehead, clearing his throat as his comforting hands were placed on her shoulders. 

"Nisha I have some news." 

Her heart started to beat fast, scared that Arturo told her father anything. "Nisha, it isn't anything bad I promise. Please, don't look so scared." Shaking her head, she gave a fake laugh, "No, I'm not scared. What's the news." 

He walked over to the fireplace, "Well, as you know, I've been here on business for the past couple of months. I thought that my work was over after reporting everything to my boss about the relations with the mayor. It seems that I may have been wrong." 

He turned to his daughter, sea-green eyes were full of sorrow, "I'm sorry dear, we're stationed here for the next year." 

**_What?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!  
> What do you think will happen next for Arturo and Nisha?
> 
> If you have any asks, or even want sneak peeks into the chapters, check out my Tumblr: thewritingamateur :  
> https://thewritingamateur.tumblr.com/
> 
> Till next time!


	5. Scary Fairy Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the beginning of a new era for Nisha, or is it?
> 
> I'm hella dumb I forgot to mention that I have a tumblr for the story: 
> 
> https://moonlight-drawn-by-dawn.tumblr.com/
> 
> If you guys have questions, submissions, or simply wanna say hi just visit!

"Get back here, Gino!"

Laughter echoed throughout the halls of the Gasparini mansion as the young toddler ran in brisk little steps feet ahead of Nisha. She had been running after the small boy all over the second floor for the past twenty minutes. Every time she was in a breath's width of him, he would have a surge of energy and speed up. She always thought of herself as a pretty energetic person, but Gino's antics proved otherwise.

A groan escaped her lips, seeing the mop of dark brown hair go down the polished wood of the back stairs leading to the kitchen. Sliding down gave him the advantage of speed through the magnetic force of the angle. Nisha carefully walked down the stairs wearing socks. The last thing she needed with a missing child was to injure herself even further. She was only a few days away from getting her cast taken off. Her current situation was the devil's way of provoking her.

Pretty blue eyes were full of happiness as small feet ran towards the kitchen, which was bustling with the chefs and kitchen crew preparing for the evening. A long sigh escaped her, worried that she would be yelled at by the kitchen crew in Italian. Although they were usually kind to her, having a young child in her care creating chaos would not be appreciated.

Tentative steps were taken to the room, embodying the rustic ambiance and earthy colors from the land. The polished marble and wood did not seem to hold the same pristine of the rest of the home, yet the homeliness of the beige walls and the massive brick oven reminded her of a fairytale. Instead of being in the lavish mansion, her mind was taken to a forest, surrounded by trees and woodland creatures helping her bake.

Her dreams were hidden in the heart. If anyone were to know her dreams of being the modern Snow White, she would be ridiculed. Nisha's father would dismiss them, saying she was more than a bumbling princess, that her brain was too useful to waste. Maria would mock her for having childish fantasies, saying that she needed to grow up a bit more.

As much as it loath her to admit it, the only person who would not make fun of her for this would be Arturo.

She didn't even want to think about him.

Her honey eyes scanned the kitchen, the cooks moving about prepping for dinner the evening. She moved around the room, searching for Gino, hoping that he wasn't causing any trouble. All she was supposed to do was put Gino and Elena down for their mid-day nap. Elena tuckered out early, so it was easy, but Gino, like any boy, wanted to give trouble before succumbing to reality.

Lips pursed as she went around the marble counter in the middle of the kitchen, she could hear his voice not too far away. She was planning to scare him, teaching him a lesson about running away from her.

Her sock-clad feet padded the floor as she walked further towards the other side of the kitchen, the exit leading to the parlor. She saw the blue shirt and dark pants of the three-year-old facing away from her. As she was ready to call out his name, her voice got in her throat.

In front of the boy was the taller, impending figure of his older brother. Her feet were frozen for a moment, her first time seeing him in the mansion since that horrendous night two weeks before. His light brown hair was slightly messy, curls a bit looser than usual like he combed it back with his fingers one too many times. His silk dress shirt was rumpled, seeming a bit more frazzled than usual.

Nisha moved behind the kitchen counter, hiding from his view. She managed to avoid him for so long, now was not going to be the time to start speaking to him again.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your momma?" Her full brows furrowed, wondering why he spoke in English and not Italian. The child knew both languages very well.

"Shh! I'm hiding." With her own eyes closed, Nisha held in her breath, seeing the sly smile form on Arturo's face from his brother's game.

"Ahh, I see. You are hiding from momma. That's not very nice." A giggle escaped baby Sinatra's lips, "No, not momma. I hiding from Ni-ni." She came to terms with the nickname the children gave her months before, unwittingly becoming fond of their cute voices calling for her.

"Who's that?"

"You know, Ni-ni. You play with her too."

"Do I now?" Her head peeked out of her hiding place, watching the smile on his face widened as he stooped to his younger brother.

"Yes! I see you play with her before." Heat rose to her cheeks, thinking of what possibly the toddler saw of their interactions. She could only hope it was not anything mortifying that could scar the child later on.

"Okay, well, why are you hiding from Ni-ni?" Her heart dropped, hearing the nickname roll off his tongue. Unlike his siblings, Arturo's take on the name had an undertone she was not pleased with. Her almond eyes watched the interaction between the two males, innocent Gino holding his hands up, wanting to be carried by his older brother.

"Naptime"

"Ahh, I see." There wasn't much to say about the reasons for this game of chase. Long slim fingers went into the tangles of dark brown hair to tussle. Curious honey eyes watched the interaction, wondering what was going behind the beautiful gaze of the elder male. They did not hold the same cheeriness as his smile showed.

Suddenly, his face turned. Nisha cowered back further into her hiding place. Her breathing quickened, having flashbacks of his attack, lips on her, and his hands scorching her body.

"Why don't we go upstairs then, hmm? We can wait for her there and scare her. Isn't that fun?"

The young boy clapped his hands in agreement, and the slight deep groan indicated that the toddler got his wish to be carried.

Her fingertips were pressed white against the marble, doing her best to keep still as the familiar footsteps of leather shoes passing through the homely kitchen.

Nisha remained in her cramped position for a couple of more minutes before she got up, holding onto the counter as the blood rushed back to her legs and rendered her still in pain. There was nothing worse than her legs falling asleep from being down for too long.

She took her time heading back to the toddler's room, scared that on her way back, Arturo would ambush her. Her steps were slow and calculated, taking a step, then a breath. Step, then a breath.

When she finally reached the dark room, there was a pretty melody emitting in the air. The voice was Arturo's, singing a song in a hushed tone. She walked towards the door, looking into the room to see the older male on the rocking chair, moving back and forth with Gino in his arms. The small boy was asleep, thumb in his mouth.

It was a sweet scene, like a father nurturing his son, except it wasn't father and son. His head rose to watch the wall, and Nisha saw it in his eyes, the emptiness as his voice was full of emotion. How was that possible, to be so in control to separate actions from thoughts? Not wanting to be caught, she went back a couple of feet, hiding in one of the spare rooms. She left the door slightly open, so she could see when he left.

She sat on the floor, rocking side to side, thinking about the lack of emotion in those pretty cornflower eyes. It was similar to the look Arturo gave weeks ago to the smiling faces of Gino and Elena. Did he hate his own family? It was hard to think of anyone hating innocent Gino and Elena, albeit their brother.

She always heard the saying actions spoke louder than words, but there was an opposite effect when it came to Arturo.

Nisha caught up in her thoughts on how villainous Arturo could be, heard the creaking of a door, Gino's door. Getting up, she went towards her door, watching to see his footsteps walk away so she could be at peace.

His brown leather shoes padded along the tiled floor, stopping mere feet away from her. She was sitting still, holding her breath as she watched his shoes turn in her direction.

Out of instinct, she took a step back, ready to run to the other side in case he tried to corner her again.

Scared eyes looked to see the shoes in place, after a moment turning back to its original path.

"Don't worry, coniglietto, you can run, but you can't hide for much longer."

His footsteps became distant as he went away. Nisha's body was trembling in fear, deciphering what his words meant. Why didn't he just come now when she was alone? She was thankful that he chose not to, but what was he waiting for?

Nisha hugged herself as she ran into the dark room, making sure the twins were sound asleep before slipping out to find their mother. She found herself spending time with the family more since her father broke the news to her.

The nails to her coffin, that they would be staying for the next year. She only wondered how all this could have happened. There was a hope that Arturo did not know about it, but it was unlikely. There was a pressing thought that he had something to do with her and her father's stay, but she knew it would be giving him too much power.

Now, until plans for her attending school were in place, she was helping to care for the toddlers and then spend some time with Valentina. She was nice. Very quiet but a pleasant person to be around. Valentina thought it was her job to show Nisha the ways of a young lady since there was no formal mother figure in her life. They began with sewing, making patterned embroideries to display.

It was hard to do at first. Nisha often stabbing herself with the needle, but over time she had gotten used to the technique, sticking her tongue out slightly as she concentrated on making her floral pattern perfect. If it was good enough, she wanted to send it home to her aunt, along with a letter saying how much she missed her.

Never in her life did she think that her days would be filled with childcare and becoming a 'lady' at the young age of sixteen.

Nisha would ask passing questions to Valentina about life in the mansion. The older woman seldom gave any information beyond pleasantries that one would give a distant relative you didn't want meddling in your business.

Valentina wore makeup frequently, encouraging Nisha to try it on as a practice. Although often declining, she did wonder how Maria's dark lipstick would look on her lips. Nisha knew better than to indulge in it, not wanting her father admonishing her or the stares from older men. She knew putting on makeup was a step to show her stepping into the role of adulthood.

Walking past the foyer, Nisha noticed that there was a small object in the middle of the floor. Bending forward to pick it up (one of Gino's teddys), she heard rustling behind her. Straightening herself, she turned back towards the noise.

There wasn't anything there. Shaking off the suspicion, the petite-statured body moved forward in the direction of the main living room, knowing Valentina was waiting for her.

If she had stayed a moment longer, she would've seen the sun shining at the right angle on the light brown hair. She would've heard the deep chuckle emitting from the dark corner of the hall.

But with many things, her focus was not on him. No, she chose to give her thoughts to Valentina and stitching her creation to perfection. Her feet went along the tiles towards the awaiting lady of the house.

After a few minutes, the leather shoes emerged from the darkness, hands in pockets as the tall figure sauntered towards the light of the foyer. His ciccino was quick to fall into the trap, even if she could not see what it is yet. There are only so many places that she could hide from him, and Arturo was tired of this hide and seek game with Nisha.

It was fun in the beginning when she would run whenever he was near, hiding by Maria's side in church, aiding herself with the haven of Valentina and the children when her father was not around.

Arturo would admit he was too rash with his actions towards her that night. Kissing her was not the best plan. Her lips were like her eyes, honey glazed whenever she was curious. The sweetness was what he tasted first from her plush lips, soft and warm against his full ones. Her curves were soft in his touch, smooth like creamy caramel that he wanted to suck.

For the child she was, he couldn't help but think of Nisha as a woman, with her body maturing faster than her mind.

He walked several feet behind the short girl, making sure not to make a sound as she went towards the living room. Her wild hair reached past her thighs, soft curls bouncing as she made steps away from him. Her pretty dress started to rise in places that would call to scandal, but she was too oblivious to it.

Cold blue eyes watched as she went into the grand central room of the mansion, going towards the upholstered couch where the elder, more physically refined woman was.

He crossed his legs, standing by the doorway, watching the two females interact quietly.

Maybe he could not get her alone just yet, but inching his way closer may not be as terrible as he first thought.

~~~

The evening came quickly for Nisha. After an hour of embroidery, the toddlers woke up and demanded her attention once more. She wished a nap was an option for her. She was feeling tired from the smaller bodies were climbing on her and pulling her around.

When dinner came around, she was famished. Her stomach was emitting low growls as she sat down the eat with the rest of the Gasparini members. Her hair was damp from the long bath she took barely twenty minutes before, curls were loose and wet on her pretty purple dress. Her shoulders shuddered in shivers as water droplets slid down her dusky skin, knees knocking together under the table waiting for the rest of the members to arrive.

Today they were all going to eat with Mayor Gasparini. Usually, he would arrive later, but he was free for once. Idly combing fingers through her hair, she watched the two young toddlers sit in highchairs on either side of their mother, kicking about and hitting their small fists on the table. Nisha became used to having Gino closer to her but looking across with the cutlery set out. She wondered who was going to sit straight in her vicinity.

Moving her jaw from side to side, she watched her father unfold the linen napkin to place over his lap, which she followed suit. With her eyes cast down, she did not look up, hearing the scraping of the seat across from her.

She knew who it was. There would be no way of Arturo sitting at the head of the table with his father joining the table.

The groaning of the floor embedded the image of his casual smirk into her mind. She knew he had gotten his wish to face her.

Nisha did not want to acknowledge the glee in his flowery eyes as her disdain was reflecting against him. The servants began to serve food when everyone was seated at the table. This evening's menu had chicken cacciatore, a hearty dish that became popularized over the years in Northern Italy. The savory smell of chicken, onions, and herbs filled the air, blending to quench the stomachs of all who sat by the table.

After a short grace for the food, the silverware clattered as everyone began to eat. Mayor Gasparini spoke soon after about mild pleasantries, most of which Nisha turned a deaf ear towards entertaining herself instead.

Her tongue savored the juiciness of the chicken, the herbs giving a fresh twist against the onions. She would miss the flavors from the Gasparini kitchen, giving her a nostalgia she never experienced before in Grantchester. All the meals were made with heartiness and love that filled her heart. Maybe if she had a chance, she could ask the chef to teach her how to make the dish. Nisha loved to cook at home, learning from her aunt many recipes she wished she had a chance to make.

Her tongue darted to her lower lip to catch any sauce that caught on.

"So, Nisha, how do you feel about staying in Italy for a while longer? I know you were probably hoping to head back home by now." Her eyes turned towards the head of the table. The mayor held a phlegmatic smile in her direction.

Dabbing her lip with the napkin on her side, she gave a sweet smile, " I was not expecting to stay here for such an extended period, but I understand. My father has duties to carry out, and I need to support him. I am excited to learn and understand Italian culture more than I know so far. Thank you for your hospitality, Mayor Gasparini." Her voice was light, practiced politeness escaping her lips.

The older man nodded as his eyes turned towards her father, "Cecil, it's quite endearing to hear your daughter speak so eloquently about your dedication to work and learning more about our culture. It's rare to see that in young women in the present day. I do hope Arturo here could find an Italian girl like your daughter."

Nisha gave a nervous laugh. That was the second time she heard the mayor say such strange words, the first time being on her birthday. What was his obsession with Arturo having a girl like her? She was not a special girl by any means, just being herself and how her father taught her to be.

"Of course, Vincenzo. Your words are very kind. It is a blessing to have Nisha as my daughter."

"Well, my offer still stands. As well as my hospitality for you and your daughter in my humble abode."

Her father put his fork down, dabbing his lip just like his daughter, "It is quite alright. Thank you for the offer. I do think it would be better for us to settle into our own new home, for now. I wouldn't want to intrude any more than I already have. It would be good for Nisha to explore Italy beyond Florence, and I hope she will learn a lot in her year of being schooled here."

Nisha's inquisitive mind wondered about the offer the mayor made to her father. A tap on her leg trumped the thought. She thought it was her father as first who did it by accident. Moments later, she felt the tap again on her other leg.

Maybe, it was a figment of her imagination. Taking another bite of her chicken, Nisha's eyes wandered towards the pair of slim hands across from her, taunt in cutting the chicken to pieces elegantly.

No, it couldn't be him. He was a Petty Betty, but playing childish games at the dinner table?

Her eyes were trained towards her father speaking with the mayor about his plans for the next year.

"For now my main focus is to ensure to Prime Minister Attlee that we are in good terms for maritime borders and there is peace amongst our nations post-war. I am hoping for peace, of course. Nothing good can come if there is another war, especially now that we are rebuilding back this continent as a whole. I think we would be failing our children if we put them through another decade of the horrors of war. We can never know what would happen this time around." His sea-green eyes turned towards his daughter, looking at her with a distant sadness she never witnessed before. She stopped eating for a moment seeing the somber expression across her father's face.

The entire table was quiet. Awkwardness ensued from the unwitting topic that was brought up.

"You are right, my friend. We must make sure we do our best to ensure peace between our nations. Now, we should relish the good times before succumbing to the bad." For a moment, Mayor Gasparini stood up from his seat, raising his glass, "Here, a toast for the future, may it only be full of happiness and freedom." The adults cheered, drinking their dark wine.

Nisha played with her fork, taking note of the tone the mayor used in addressing the topic of war. He said diplomatic words, as any leader should, but the lightness in his statement came off wrong. They sounded more of appeasement for the moment rather than a passion to hold onto the newfound peace. She could feel an inevitable closing by with his words.

Picking up her glass of water, she took a sip to cleanse her pallet before cutting another piece of chicken. Her eyelashes fluttered, taking a sly glance towards the golden boy across from her. He seemed focused on his food, tendrils of his hair falling out of place.

Her focus on him waned as she began to think about her plans for the next week. She was excited to see the new home her father was taking her to, finally freed from these magnificent yet cold walls. Before dinner, her father also hinted that a person she was fond of would be staying with them for the next couple of weeks. Her heart thumped fast, thinking of her cousin, remembering all the fun they would usually have in the summer back home.

Although she had several cousins, it was always her and Dora who went on little adventures in the forest, going around all hours in the night convinced they found some monster because of mangled footsteps they saw. Dora was always fun to hang around, heading down to the cold beach to chase one another around or sitting down by the radio, listening to dramatizations of American Westerns and classic mysteries to recreate it to their liking.

Lost in her memories, she absentmindedly munched on the flavorful dinner staring off into space. She missed her partner in crime. Her hand went towards the glass again. In an instant, it slipped from her grip, clattering on the table and spilling to the floor. A screech escaped her lips as she felt a smooth sensation moving up her bare leg.

All eyes were on Nisha and the mess she created.

"What's wrong?" Her wide eyes looked towards her father's concerned gaze, quick to take his napkin and dab the mess clean.

Wiping her lips, a nervous laugh emitted, "N-nothing. I just felt something on my leg, and it scared me. It probably was a chill. I'm sorry for the mess." She stood up, her attire now wet, but that didn't matter. Her hands were quick to find napkins to absorb the mess, a servant, and Valentina also coming to her aid.

Her lips trembled, humiliation flooded her cheeks, feeling foolish in front of the mayor. With the water cleared, she sat back down, her wet dress clinging onto her legs.

Cognac eyes looked straight across to the menace who she knew caused the demise. With a hand covering his face, his eyes were full of amusement. That left dimple stuck out on his cheek, incapable of even trying to hide his pride in getting one over her.

Angry, she gave the harshest stare her mind could muster. Arturo rolled his shoulders, taking another smug bite into the chicken. His curly locks turned to his left, and suddenly his smile whipped off his face.

Nisha watched as the joy in his eyes died. A fraction of shame replaced it. His full lips thinned to a flat line looking down at his food like a child told off.

For a quick moment, she allowed her heated gaze to turn towards the head of the table, eyes widening at the fearsome glare the mayor sent his eldest son's way. She felt the blood drain from her face, not feeling as upset anymore.

Not wanting to surround herself in the situation any longer, Nisha excused herself from dinner. She walked up the stairs to her quaint room with eyes downcast, her hunger fleeting for the rest of the night.

Changing into dry clothes, she sat on her bed for some time, rolling her jaw from side to side, containing her anger. No matter how hard she tried, Arturo was a thorn on her side. She didn't want to start up a fuss when her father came back, so Nisha's only option was to find an outlet.

She went towards her luggage and rummaged through her items, picking up her trusty pencil and sketchbook that was left untouched for over three weeks. With the moon shining brightly by the small desk in the room, she sat down with a candle (not bothered enough to use a lamp) and began to mark strokes on the once spotless paper.

Being left-handed, Nisha was not sure how her skills would be using her non-dominant hand. Instead of perfect spheres, the edges were rough, jagged. Her tongue stuck out slightly as she kept trying to make it perfect in her sight. It was tough, but without drawing, there would be no other option to offload her emotions that burned in her soul.

Whenever she drew in a frenzy, the finished product was never known until the end. She would only allow her fingers to take control, pouring her pain of the last month into the figures.

She heard her father open the main door into their small accommodations, but he made no effort in checking up on her. He must have thought she was asleep.

After the final stroke, her pencil fell from her fingers, shaking from the effort she forced on it. For her first time drawing with her right hand, it wasn't too terrible. Picasso may have been proud of it.

She took a moment, letting out a shaky breath looking down at her finished work. Surprise crossed her honey eyes, seeing what she had done.

It was a young boy, sitting on the floor of an old rug, his hand limply holding a toy. A shadow covered his face, a frown seen on display. His back was leaning on an older male with the same downturned face. In his hands was the small contraption she would always see coming her way. Above both males was a large overcast in the shape of a tall man, fearsome with a lone finger pointing down.

Sitting back, Nisha allowed herself to bask in the moonlight, reflecting on what her subconscious decided to pay attention to. Despite her anger and feeling of unjust ridicule thrown her way by the hands of this man, she couldn't help but wonder about who he truly was.

Tonight at dinner was the first time she ever saw Arturo show emotions other than playful. This shroud of compunction was unfamiliar, and it showed that maybe he didn't have it all as he would often portray. How old was he that his father's actions could still sway his emotions so strongly? He looked to be a man in his upper-twenties, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe behind the glitz and flirtations, he was a small boy, just wanting to draw attention to himself.

She did not have any concrete thoughts towards the mayor before dinner, but after seeing that look across his face, she knew he was a force to be reckoned with.

Blowing out the candle, she went into her bed, having thoughts about Arturo even with all her measures to banish them. Her mind was restless, wanting to know more despite her better judgment.

By the night's end, Nisha's anger for Arturo turned into pity. And that may be the most dangerous notion of all.

~~~

"Well, it isn't a Gasparini mansion, but it will have to do. At least here, you wouldn't be bothered by those rat-faced children."

Nisha glared at her taller friends as they walked towards her new home for the next year.

For miles, there was mostly free land, grass leading to the main road. There was only one other home nearby, a large mansion that seemed out of place. Her humble abode was riddled with small green vines growing on the white walls, the smell of fresh trees filling her lungs.

In her hand was a small box holding some of her belongings.

"They are not rat-faced, Maria. Gino and Elena are absolute angels if you just treat them nicely. Besides, I'm more than sure that Arturo wouldn't be happy that you called his siblings such a terrible thing." While she was not sure about the last part of her statement, she was sure if Maria took the time to play with the children other than ignoring them, they would be nice to her too. The last time she came to the mansion, Maria snubbed the toddlers, causing them to bother her and mess up her hair. It would be an understatement that Maria was pissed when she left that day.

The inside of the cottage held the same rustic ambiance that the Gasparini kitchen did, with the wooden furniture and brick design holding tightly to the foundation of the land.

The first room they stumbled upon was the kitchen, small in size, but it held the necessities to make homely meals. The brick oven brought a smile to the bee-stung lips of Nisha, excited to bake some recipes that her aunt gave her before leaving England months before. To the right was a living room, an old green couch was in the middle, a table right in front of it. Further down, there were several doors on either side of the hall.

Maria followed her friend into the last room on the right. The only things in sight was a small canopy bed, several boxes, and a desk near the window with the breeze blowing the white curtains. A frown etched on her lips, "You sure you guys can't stay longer with the Gasparinis'? This," her hand gesturing around the bland room, " is not worth all the trouble of moving."

"No, we cannot. My father knows that we need to have our own place for the next year. It would be overstepping on their hospitality to stay any longer. Besides, this is all worth having some time and space for myself once again." She rested the box on the desk, rubbing her left wrist from the strain.

It was only a couple of days before when Nisha freed from the heinous cast on her arm. Her father had gone with her, along with Arturo. Unfortunately, he was the only one with an automobile who also had the time to take them to the hospital.

He was cordial with her father around, keeping a distance from her other than the occasional smile of encouragement. Though she never returned his kind gesture, Nisha couldn't help but think that the dinner changed his attitude a bit. She never knew what happened after she left, and there was no way that she was going to ask Arturo. 

Her wrist was weak from the lack of use. She was unable to carry anything heavy or write and draw for long periods of time, fearing she would strain the muscles. Thankfully, she was able to learn and build resistance in her right hand, helping her carry out many daily activities.

She watched as her graceful friend plopped on the bed, looking around the room. "If I was not leaving for England next week, I would have stayed and help you decorate."

Nisha smiled at her friend's kind thought, "Thanks, but it's fine. Hopefully, we'll see one another during the holidays, and then we can figure that out." Truth be told, she already had planned on how she would fill this room with new memories and trinkets.

Stretching her limbs by the window, she was caught off guard, hearing a knock on her wooden door.

"I see you're adjusting well enough here. Maybe I should've stayed home, sulking in my loneliness."

Her momentary shock turned into glee, seeing her second favorite person (the first being her father) right at her door.

"Dora!" She ran to her cousin with open arms, jumping on him with full force, knocking him back to the wall behind him.

Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Nisha peppered him with kisses along his pale cheek. His arms held her body close, embracing his little cousin for a moment before pulling back to see her face.

"I see your face is finally a bit clearer. Staying away from the chocolates?" She gave him a playful glare, "Never, I'm just growing up now."

"You, growing? I haven't seen an extra centimeter to your height for the last five years. I'm sorry to break it to you, Nisha, but there's no chance of a growth spurt any time soon." She scrunched up her face, sticking out her tongue before resting her head on his broad shoulder.

Hearing a throat clear behind her, briefly halting the reunion, Nisha turned back to her friend, who was now standing up, giving one of her killer smiles. She stood with her fingers laced together in front of her, amber eyes looking shyly towards the unfamiliar male.

Reluctantly, Nisha slid off her cousin. He still kept a light grip on her waist, but it was no problem. They would always stick closer than glue back home.

"Maria, this is my dear cousin, Theodore. Dora, this is my good schoolfriend, Maria." Maria gave her hand like she was the Queen of France, which the young man did not think much of as he gave a quick smile and a firm handshake.

"It's nice to meet you, Maria. Hopefully, my cousin was not too much trouble."

Nisha always thought that the way Maria acted around Arturo was terrible, but with Theodore, it was apparent she could be worse. She gave off a girlish giggle, wringing her fingers together, "No, she wasn't too much, other than her usual antics, of course. I mean, you must know how rowdy she can be when ready."

His pale blue eyes turned towards the short girl. "Yes, that I can agree with. I see your cast is finally gone, Manly. Does that mean you are free to wrestle a bit?"

"Yes, but what good would that do you? I always win anyway."

"That's because I let you."

"Never! Face it, Dora, I'm stronger than you." Maria watched awkwardly as the pair of relatives were off in banter, forgetting about her existence. Despite usually having the center of attention when it came to friends and family, she was jealous of Nisha at that moment. It seemed for some reason, whenever it came to men, her exotic friend always had her beat.

What was it that she had that Maria didn't?

Maria knew in this instance, her thoughts were far-fetched. This man was Nisha's older cousin. There was no way he had any sort of interest in her. They were just...close. Yes, it seemed like they were close enough to hold one another intimately without it being romantic.

Looking at them from a distance, one could never tell they were cousins. They were strikingly different in features. He was pale like snow, while her skin was wheatish in tone. He had fine hair while her thick curls flowed down her knees. He looked like a man, and she was a small girl in front of him.

He was just so handsome. Maria always thought Arturo would be the most handsome man she would have the blessing to lay her eyes upon, but good Lord, Theodore was quite a sight. His most striking feature was his hair, a light blonde, almost a platinum shade, combed back with a few strands falling on his forehead. His thick, dark eyebrows drew you into his beautiful pale blue eyes, droplets of ice forever seized in his gaze. His face was angular, holding high cheekbones to a smooth face, and small smatterings of light freckles along his straight nose. Lips were thin, yet supple. Just enough to want to bite into.

He was by no means handsome the same way her Arturo was. Arturo was handsome with softer features, giving him the air of boyish charm that drew many women to his arms. Nisha's cousin, however, he had a face that screamed aristocracy; he was royalty hidden in middle-class clothes. His slim figure was strong, at least strong enough to hold onto Nisha's weight. His beige button-down sports shirt and olive green waist pants looked refined on his wiry body. 

If it didn't work out with Arturo, at least Maria was now glad for a second option.

"I see I'm interrupting, but we must finish unloading the rest of the boxes. Come, Nisha, introduce me to your friend, and we will finish everything up."

The smaller girl cowered ever so slightly behind the strong arms of her cousin, before consciously stopping herself while giving a nod, "Of course."

She was ready to let go of her cousin's hand, to walk alone and fight against the battle in front of her. Although wary of Arturo, she felt confident without the hindrance of a broken limb.

A strong grip held her back. Looking towards Theodore, Nisha watched the skeptical look in his eyes trained to the man in front of them. Rubbing her wrist with his thumb, he walked ahead of her, strong in strides walking down the short hall, stopping in front of Arturo.

They were similar in height, her cousin tipping over an inch or two. Arturo's body was slightly wider, making up for the first time physically lacking with another man. Cornflower eyes looked behind the stock of a man towards his little coniglietto, cowering near her taller friend. His view was blocked again as the male moved a step to the side.

"You must be Nisha's cousin. It's nice to meet you. I'm Arturo." He gave his hand to shake, but it was left in the air. Maybe Nisha's abrasiveness was a learned trait.

Theodore's hands crossed over his chest, "I'm not her cousin."

Hearing his words, Nisha felt a bubbling pain in her gut.

It brought back memories of when her father first brought her home to Grantchester. The family was taken by surprise with her first appearance. It wasn't that they treated her differently. In fact, they did their best to include and love her with all their might.

It was always Theo who made efforts in differentiating her from the rest. They would always spend time together, but when it came to others, he would make it clear they were not cousins. This clarity became especially apparent only a few years ago when she was thirteen, and he was nineteen. She could only toss it up to his new way of thinking from college.

He would never disclude her from events and treated her all the same, but when it came to him telling others they weren't biological relatives, she felt alone. It was a constant reminder of her childhood, and she was forced to keep it to herself, to smile despite the terrible stab in her heart. 

Arturo watched the protective gaze in the other male's eyes. There was an understanding of what the silence carried in his words, giving a curt nod, "Of course, my apologies. She speaks of you all the time. I assumed you were close." She never did mention this cousin to him, but now he understood why.

There was a war in his hands now.

The tense air between the two men all but vanished as Arturo's curls swayed, turning around. "Let's hurry and finish the unpacking. We'll have to eat lunch soon."

Both girls who watched the males cautiously followed suit, murmuring amongst themselves as they spoke about plans for the holidays.

Theo was left alone, breathing out his nose as his arms went limp. Not even five minutes in meeting this guy, and he saw why his uncle was so worried about this man. He was glad to be here, even if his stay was short. Nisha was young and impressionable. The last thing she needed was to be swayed by the charms of this guy.

Walking out of the small home, he followed his little cousin to the automobile, his eyes watching the older male who kept staring at her budding form.

This was going to be a tough few weeks.

~~~

"So, if you don't mind me asking, how come you came so late in summer?"

All four were sitting on a blanket under a tree a mile away from the cottage. The sun was beating down midday, and the shade was much needed.

Nisha made small sandwiches earlier in the morning, perfect for a quick munch before finishing the task. It was mostly quiet since the tense encounter between Theo and Arturo, both men not failing to stick close to her side during the unpacking.

"Well, Uncle Cecil asked for me to visit before I go back to university. I obliged, not only because I wanted to see my lovely cousin, but I've never been to Italy before. It's a beautiful country that holds home to many of our European arts and ideologies." Maria looked at Theodore with dreamy eyes, her head tilted with a languid smile on her face.

Arturo rolled his eyes at the attention Nisha's 'cousin' was receiving. Although he never gave Maria too much attention, now that her gaze was on another, he felt like second-place. It was tough enough trying to earn Nisha's attention, but to lose one of his fans to another? It was all too hard to take in.

"To be frank, when Nisha would always mention her cousin Dora, I thought you were a-"

"Girl? Of course, it's only natural to think like that. It was an old nickname she gave me, and for some reason, she still uses it." He looked towards Nisha, who was scarfing down the food, not fully listening to the conversation.

"You know why I still use it. Besides, you still call me manly. I wonder why that is?"

"You act like a boy! Ever since I've known you from a small tyke, you've always been fierce. There wasn't a time, in the beginning, when we wouldn't get into some rumble, and you would always find yourself in some mess." Her cognac eyes held glee, remembering all the times she was able to overpower him.

"And you are like a girl. I've never met a boy who was as terrified of woodland creatures like you are." Fear crossed his eyes, moving closer to her to whisper in her hear, "Nisha, stop. Don't let them know about that."

Usually, Nisha was kind enough to listen. This time, she was going to get payback for him denouncing their familial bond.

"Why?" Her voice became loud, this was a new sight for Maria and Arturo. Nisha was usually the quiet mouse in the group. Seeing her now as a rowdy sailor was a sight to behold. Maria thought she was watching a scene play out in front of her, and Arturo was smirking towards this new fire Nisha produced. It was nice to see he wasn't the only one she would act out against.

"When I first met you, Dora, you were running away from a frog. A little, smelly frog! I never saw a boy cry over something so innocent. Then there were the deers, I mean, you did start it off by throwing rocks at them, but still, I've never met anyone who's as scared as you were." She took another bite of her lunch.

"Besides, I think Aunty would agree that you were weak for a boy your age. She would always give me a cookie whenever I would beat you up."

Theodore was mortified at the laughter the two sitting across gave. His cheeks were tinted a dark pink, glaring down at his cousin, who could've cared less about his embarrassment.

"Well, since you're in a sour mood, I suppose you don't want my surprise then." She stopped mid-chew, looking at her cousin, "Surprise? What do you have?"

"I'm not telling you now. If you want to be childish, then I'll treat you like one. Naughty children forego their treats."

A frown found its way on her face, "I only did it because you started it!"

"Oh, do give it to her! It's been a while since we've seen a big smile on her face." His glare went towards the older male looking towards young Nisha with joy. He did seem like one who would spoil children despite their behavior.

Maria also joined the chorus, "Yes, we want to see the surprise. And I'm sure Nisha was only teasing, weren't you? She's always like that." Nisha watched as her friend started to sound more like a pacifying aunt rather than a friend, trying to look mature in front of Theodore.

She finally looked up at her cross cousin, who avoided her gaze.

"I was, you know how I love to tease you. I love you, Dora." She sat up higher, kissing his cheek affectionately.

Maria clapped at the tender moment, never seeing Nisha openly embrace another person. Arturo brooded at the sight, wishing it was him she was kissing so lovingly.

Theo froze in time, not sure what to think from her actions. Clearing his throat, he moved away from her, "Alright then, I'll give it to you." He got up and left abruptly, his cheeks changing from pink to red. Theo became used to hearing her utter the words, but now, to him, it felt different.

"Why did you hide him for so long? I would've never thought your cousin would be so handsome."

Nisha blushed at the compliment, "Well, he just likes to hide away, I guess. Besides, I wouldn't want to make friends just because of my cousin. He becomes a perk afterward." Maybe she should be worried about Maria's sudden interest in Dora, but he was a lot better than Arturo. At least Dora knew how to treat a girl.

"What's your school plans going to be like? I mean, you don't know any Italian, and it's your last year." Nisha thought for a moment, it was the first time thinking about school since she arrived in Italy. "I don't have any idea. I'm sure my father has a plan in mind."

"Well, if you'd like, I can teach you some Italian until the time comes. It should help at least with the basics."

Her eyes flew to his flowery gaze, for the first time in weeks willingly so. He seemed genuine in intent, but the last time she thought that he jeopardized everything. "I'm fine. Thank you for the offer. Nothing that a book can't teach."

A snort escaped his ruby lips, "A book? Nisha, you are sitting here with two Italian natives. Do you think a book can teach you better than real life?"

She hated that he made a good point.

Before having a proper chance to respond, Theodore arrived back, a medium white box at hand. There were several holes all around the cardboard. Her eyebrows furrowed curiously to what it could be.

"Well, open it." He took a step back, giving himself some distance from whatever was ready to come out.

She would be nervous, but hearing the rustling in the box gave her joy. Gingerly, she ripped open the lid, her gift jumping out and on her.

"Bo!" The box fell out of her lap, the small animal inside licking her face.

Nisha was already ecstatic seeing her cousin, and now her beloved baby too? She hugged her furry friend close, forgetting the others around her.

"Your pet was a fox?"

Maria remembered all the times Nisha would mention Bo over the past year in school and now on holiday. She would go on and on about how cute and great he was, always making plans centering her pet.

She thought he was a pug at most, not a wild woodland creature, "You should be careful! He could be dangerous."

Nisha ignored her friend, her fingers rubbing his orange head gently, "He's not dangerous. Bo's the nicest fox you'll ever meet. Right, Theo?"

He watched his young cousin's open expression and looking down towards the fox whose calm face turned to him with a hiss, baring teeth.

"O-of course, Nisha, he's such a treat."

"See? Who needs a guy when a fox will be more loyal?" She kissed his soft fur, looking at Maria with triumphant eyes.

Arturo moved a bit closer, bringing his slim fingers towards the fox, "He looks innocent enough. How did he become yours?" The fox was small in size, just like Nisha. Eyes were big and black, and the cute features make it look like a life-like replica of a baby box rather than a real one.

"I found him last winter, deep in the woods. It was one afternoon when I was heading home. I remembered seeing the mother fox with all of her babies, then suddenly she went, leaving him behind. I got closer to see that his leg was broken. She must have left him seeing his as a burden or a risk to keep the others safe." Her fingers were combing his orange and white fur on his back, Bo blinking without much movement.

"With my father's help, I mended his leg and waited for the mother to return. Surely she wouldn't leave him behind forever. Days turned to weeks, then dwindled into months. She never came back." Her tone became melancholy. There was a hint of longing in her voice.

A hand moved to touch her, "But you were there. You saw the baby and saved his life. That was a kind thing to do, Nisha. Who would've thought, a fox and rabbit being the best of friends?" She didn't understand the last part of Arturo's statement, but there wasn't much time to think about it. As his fingers touched her arm, the actions that came after became a domino effect.

Sharp teeth went to his porcelain skin. Jumping out of Nisha's embrace, the small fox lunged at Arturo, sending him straight to the floor.

Bo bit his hand, teeth piercing through to his bone.

"AHHHH!"

Blue eyes were filled with terror feeling the pain and his blood spurting out. Maria and Theodore jumped back, scared of the savage animal hurting the elder male. Nisha's eyes widened, actions were delayed to stop her pet. She knew that Bo was protective of her, but this was the first time he ever attacked another person.

Arturo, having adrenaline kicking in, got up and tried to shake the mangy mutt off of his hand. He was shaking and pushing the fox, but its teeth sunk in deeper, stabbing a thousand more needles into his flesh. He threw his hand to the tree, but the animal didn't flinch as its body met the bark.

"GET HIM OFF OF ME!"

Seeing the male in terror, Theodore moved into action, trying to pull Bo off. His fingers were trembling, holding onto the soft body, pulling in light tugs as the fox growled. Maria screamed like a banshee as both men kept turning in circles, struggling to release Arturo's hand.

"Nisha, do something!" She watched blankly as the elder male's face contorted to a sobbing face. For the first time, he didn't look pretty. His face was streaked with tears and snot as he began to mutter Italian under his breath, his lip quivering.

Shaking her head back to reality, Nisha got up and went to her cousin's side, lightly pulling her baby to stop the attack.

"Bo! Stop that. That wasn't very nice." Growling, the small fox finally released the mangled hand from his mouth as his owner soothingly scratched behind his ear.

Arturo felt queasy seeing his once-perfect hand marred with blood and toothmarks. The pain was intensifying as every second passed. He heard a scream blowing out his eardrums, and it took a moment to realize it was himself.

Slow to action, Theo cleared the blanket they were on and began to wrap it around the wound, putting pressure to stop some of the bleedings. He turned to Maria, "Do you know where the hospital is?"

She nodded, flashbacks of Nisha's incident crossing her mind. Getting up, she lead Theo and Arturo to the automobile, leaving the young girl by herself with the culprit bundled in her arms.

Cleaning up the mess, she followed the rest of the group with Theo in the driver's seat and Maria sitting with Arturo, both freaking out from the bite.

"Nisha, how could you let your pet do that to him? It's terrible!"

"It was an accident. He thought Arturo was going to do something. Bo's not used to strangers." Her voice became small, holding her fox close to shield him from the verbal attack Maria sent his way.

Just like six weeks before, they found themselves heading back in the hospital, tending to a bloody injury.

~~~

They spent an hour in the hospital, doctors and nurses rushing to the aid of the mayor's son. He had to get stitches, and he had to clean it daily before an infection would form.

Theo was a great help to Arturo, which was unforeseen from their tense interaction in the beginning. It wasn't surprising to Nisha. Dora was a just person, always looking out for the well-being of others.

Like the time before, Maria left halfway through, not able to stomach the rawness of the injury. She muttered angry words to Nisha, saying she should keep a muzzle on her fox before letting him out.

The young girl hung her head in shame as she waited for Arturo in the hospital. She never expected such a situation would happen at the hands of her beloved Bo.

She went to apologize to Arturo as he came out with his bandaged hand, her eyes teary in the guilt of the situation. He was passive in accepting her apology, but the hurt was vivid in his eyes. The ride back was quiet. She bided her cousin goodbye as he went back to the cottage, settling down before she and her father made the official move there.

Later in the evening, Nisha found herself alone in the Gasparini library.

Bo was resting in her room, and without the toddlers awake, she was alone to bask in her guilt. Maybe this was worse to admit, but Nisha did not feel all that terrible about what had happened to Arturo. In the beginning, that is. It was terrifying to see Bo act out against him, but instead of immediate remorse, she had the slightest fluttering of delight.

All she had suffered under the hands of Arturo, his constant touches, the violation of her person, and his ill intent; she had gotten her revenge through her baby fox. She wanted to reward him for his instincts, but there would be an uproar if she had done it openly. Arturo said he wanted no action against Bo, thankfully, and it may have been the same thought that caused his lack of retaliation. In spite of all Arturo did to her without consequence, Nisha knew he did not lack the perception to know this was payback for what he did.

She hoped it would make him stop, but deep within her gut, she knew he would keep going. Nothing would stop him, not even a bite.

She found herself in the room where the nightmares from her birthday still replayed in her mind. For some time, she browsed the books, fingers passing on the leather and hardcovers looking at the Italian titles. She picked an art book that had colored pictures instead of words, giving it the edge she needed. It was an art book showing the churches of Italy for the last century, just what she needed.

If there was anyone she needed, it was God.

Her heart became overwhelmed as she looked at the intricate designs of mosaics creating the wondrous face of Jesus, young Mary, and the apostles. The churches were grand, reading about all the toil and hard work that went into the churches.

Smaller items, like chalices and ivory carved chairs, were also described. Themes were embodying one biblical story or another.

She was surprised seeing many artistic themes reflecting the story of Jonah, a biblical prophet who tried to fight his destiny God had given him. His task was to preach to the wicked people of Nineveh, and Jonah's hatred of them caused him to run away. By the force of God, Jonah went, stuck in the belly of a whale for three days and three nights.

Reading the inscription in the book explained that Jonah's short stay in the fish showed Jesus' three-day death and resurrection. It was an intriguing theory, something she would look into later.

Her fingers turned the pages, honey eyes looking from the carved pieces of art to the manuscripts written and drawn with gold ink, little prayers for readers to recite. It was all in Latin, but the effort to create it moved her enough to want to learn.

There was one picture that forced her to pause her browsing, a single mosaic taking her breath away.

Her eyes beheld the face of Queen Esther, the beautiful queen who saved her nation. While she knew the basics of the story, Nisha never took the chance to read who Esther was. The queen's face was peaceful, happy. Although this was only a version of what she may have looked like, her beauty shined through.

She held the old-world beauty Nisha wanted. She made a note to read the story when she went to her room, tugging in her heart that she should do that sooner than later.

Her heart was overwhelmed by all she saw, not making her forget the events of the day, but allowed her to retrieve a pen and pencil, sitting down in the dimly lit room and she began to write. Her eyes closed every few minutes, not to sleep, but to close her eyes and allowed to mind to explore what she wanted to convey.

She just kept writing and writing, letting the words pour out. Not having the ability to write for the past month, her need multiplied as the time went by, now glad she had this moment alone to do as she pleased.

After an hour, the sun had gone down, and the moon was shining brightly. Nisha sat back, satisfied with her work.

She wrote an ekphrasis, a literary description for artistic work, for a church. It wasn't any church in particular, but she thought hard about what she wanted to see in a church, to walk in awe at the magnificent sights only her mind had beheld up until this moment.

When her father comes back, she would show off her work.

A small smile painted her face as she watched the bright moon in the sapphire blue sky, little twinkling stars all around, illuminating the Gasparini garden not too far away. In the middle was the fountain with a statue of a naked male, Raphael inspired no doubt. Several pastel colors merged as her cognac eyes watched from afar.

"I would often find myself sitting here for hours just like you when I was a young boy." Hearing his husky voice, Nisha did not feel sacred, expecting him to find her alone sooner or later.

Guilt flooded her again, eyeing the bandaged hand with some red splotches. She looked up at Arturo like a lost puppy, lips trembling at the glower he sent her way.

His eyes reflected a dark storm. His lips thinned in a straight line with his jaw clenched.

"It's a surprise to see you alone. I thought you would bond with your animal."

"Bo is sleeping." She averted her gaze for a moment, not able to handle the intensity of his anger. Nisha was not used to others being so upset with her. It was not a feeling she wanted to face again, "I'm sorry he bit you, Arturo. He didn't mean any harm."

"No harm? I would believe that if he had simply growled at me, not try to BITE MY HAND OFF!" His voice rose with every word, disbelief in his tone as she defended her fox. Out of instinct, she covered her face, hair covering her face from his rage. Images of the mayor's upset face flashed through her mind. Her breathing quickened, unsure of what Arturo was capable of in this state.

"Look at me." She didn't listen, body shivering from his authoritative voice. Nisha never thought she would have to fear his anger, only his suggestive notions.

A soft finger pulled her chin up, looking at him once more. Gone were the pretty flowers dancing. Now, dark clouds consumed the sky in his eyes.

His thumb moved to wipe the tear falling on her cheek, "Ciccino," he closed his eyes a moment, "If I did not know better, I would say you had him bite me on purpose."

"What? Why would I ever do that?"

"For all I know, you could have a signal so he could attack people. That is a dangerous thing to do, Nisha. I would never have expected you to do something so terrible."

She couldn't believe his accusation, "I-I didn't! I would never want him to do that to you or anyone for that matter. It was an accident, I swear. He's just protective. You're a stranger to him." 

"Don't you know it's bad to swear?" Nisha grimaced as he threw back her words from weeks before.

"I did so much for you, helping you when your arm broke, took you out, and dressed you up on your birthday. Even now, I'm still doing so much for you, and this is the thanks I receive?" His voice became a whisper, his fingers entangled in her curls, brushing her hair soothingly.

His feather touch lingered towards her slim neck, wrapping around tightly.

Her eyes dilated. He watched the red specks spread in her pupils, panic flooding her expression as she tried to pry herself free.

Arturo's face never changed, a calm facade hiding his fury.

She gasped for some air, her fingers losing feeling as spots filled her view. Choked whimpers escaped her lips, "A-a-ar- o".

A rush of power flowed through his blood, controlling his grip a bit so she didn't pass out on him. Where would the fun be?

Tilting her body back on the table, he watched her honey eyes pleading to him.

Nisha was at his mercy, completely weak to his will. Her wild hair laid around her like a halo, an angel suffering at the hands of a devil.

Her mind screamed, calling out for help. **God, please! Let this not be my end. Lord, save me!** Gasping for air, her eyes rolled back, her life slipping through the threads of Arturo's commands.

As she was close to losing consciousness, a verse came to her mind, for the book of Isaiah: _**For I, the LORD your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, "Fear not, I am the one who helps you.**_

A cool breeze came from outside, Nisha struggled to take in the air coming her way. Her papers rustled under her body, fingers reaching up to his wounded hand.

His gaze wavered for a moment, looking at the paper next to her. Grip lank around her throat, he pulled her up to him, turning her around, her back meeting his chest.

Coughs were loud, wheezing followed. There was no strength in her left to fight off warm hold. Teary eyes watched as he picked up her written work with his bandaged hand. Knees buckled together, legs quivering with a chill going down her back.

His grip was still holding up against him, forcing her to feel his body move against her.

" It is a peaceful image, tranquil to ease the heart of their worries, that help is not far.

The higher apse has another cross, golden all around, a jewel on each corner.

A picture of Christ is in the center, his right hand up representing peace."

She never wanted it to be read out loud. Even with just the two of them around, it was weird to hear her work read out loud. His breathy voice made her words come to life, a dramatic reading, Shakespearian monologue.

"From all corners of the empire, people come to give their offerings, and thanks.

Donations from the elites were nothing short of gold and ivory pieces.

Although seen as a church, many have seen it as a center of pilgrimage, changing their lives for one and all.

Who would think a church of humble designs short of marble doors would hold such extravagance within its walls?

St. Nicetas church is standing tall, for all who care to cast their burdens on the cross."

Arturo was silent again, finally removing his fingers from caging her throat and went lower, encircling her waist. For the time being, she did not care, thankful she was not in danger of choking once more.

Her ears burned from the rawness enflaming her throat, her fingers moving to protect and attempt to soothe her injured organ.

"Among your talents, I did not expect poetry to be one of them."

She did not want to answer him, but fear of his anger forced hoarse words to tumble out of her dry lips, "It's not that great. A-and it is not a poem. It's an ekphrasis f-for a church I imagined."

Nisha learned in school the ways people showed their admiration for artistic monuments and feats through an ekphrasis. It was not a popular practice anymore, but she wanted to take a hand at it, and it made her happy to think it wasn't terrible.

"Please, let me go, Arturo." He felt her body shiver against him. He probably did give her a scare earlier. It wasn't like he was going to let her die in his grasp. It was just a game, a lesson to warn her of any plans in the future.

Fear did look pretty in her eyes though, the submission to comply with his desires.

"I've only now had you to myself. How can I give you up so easily?" Casually, long legs bent to sit on the chair, pulling Nisha's body to sit atop of him. Her back was soft, his fingers gingerly holding her in place.

"There's potential in you, Nisha. Potential for greatness if you would only focus on the right things. Your mind is beautiful, but you rather fill it with child's play than real issues."

Her lips were a line. She was not going to counter whatever assumptions Arturo made about her character, not yet.

"You need the right teacher to show you the right direction." His leg began to move up and down, like a father bouncing his child. "Your picaresque nature is beguiling, but you are too wild. Nisha, ciccino, to become a proper lady, you must know how to please men. Having something to protect you from growing up will only delay the inevitable." His grip tightened around her tiny waist, his hand trailing down to the curve of her hip. Nerves twisted in her gut, feeling his fingers flutter on her upper thigh. Words flooded out of her mouth, wanting his actions to cease.

"Arturo, I'm sorry about your hand, really. I had no idea that Bo would do something so horrid to you. Please, forgive me for allowing that to happen."

His movements stopped, hand resting back on her hip, and his head moved to rest on the crook of her shoulder, giving out a wistful sigh.

"I suppose it's too late now. What's done is done. I doubt you could've done anything to stop it."

She was ready to rip away from his embrace, but he held onto her waist a bit tighter, fastening her to his body.

"I'll forgive you, but only if you do one thing for me."

Her naive gaze turned to look into his flowery stare. She was relieved he was not angry anymore. 

"Tell me you like me, and that we are friends. Then, kiss my cheek. Not reluctantly. I want your affection to show the remorse."

Her throat hurt as she gulped, not sure why this was such a specific demand. Did Arturo expect her to show appreciation after he attempted to kill her? If it wasn't for his hold on her, she would've run away, not even acknowledging him again.

If she wanted a guarantee that she was going to see more to life beyond tonight, in this room with the moon shining outside, Nisha knew what must she had to do.

"I do like you, Arturo. I want us to be friends, no more bickering between us." She closed her eyes for a moment, knowing she had to go through the motions so he would be satisfied.

She put her small hands on his broad shoulders, bringing her lips to his right cheek, kissing him like she would Dora.

She went to move back, but he hugged her close, murmuring something incoherent in Italian. Nisha did her best to remain calm while in his embrace, not wanting another scare.

"Oh, ti amo. Ti amo, coniglietto mio. Se solo potessimo essere un solo corpo da oggi in avanti. Tu sei mio." His hushed words brought out his desires, wanting nothing more than her, her body and mind being his only to explore.

Even when angry with her, Arturo realized that there was not a thing she could do would stop the feelings he had for her. Hell, even her pet wasn't terrible. He would have to train both to behave around him, but he would never take it away from her.

He, in turn, also kissed her cheek, smiling at her confused face. "Alright," he finally removed his hands from caging her, "you can go now. Don't run from me anymore, Nisha. As you have said, we are friends."

Giving an absentminded nod, she barely registered his words, taking her papers, and running out of the library, she dark shadows consuming her body. 

Closing the door shut in her quarters, she jolted, hearing a voice behind her. "Nisha, where were you?"

She tried to even her breath, painting a smile on her face, "I was in the library, you know, catching up on some reading."

She turned to see her father sitting on the plush chair in front of the empty fireplace, a book in hand. His passive eyes became worrisome as he got up, closing in on her face.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Although Nisha did not get the chance to see her appearance in a mirror, she knew what her father was asking about. With Arturo's tight grip from before, a mark on her skin was inevitable.

"N-no one, dad. It must be a reaction to something." Nisha avoided Cecil's gaze, unable to admit the truth.

Shaking within, her father could not believe the situation before him. He was not able to tell Nisha the real reasons for their staying in Italy or why they must affiliate with the Gasparini's, but why did she not give him a reason to get out? He would rather die than to ever see his daughter suffer.

"Why are you protecting him?" She looked up, watching in regret as her father cried. He was a strong man, never letting his feelings openly overtake him.

"Nisha, what does he have over you that you are so unwilling to be honest with me? Don't you care about your well-being?" His knees trembled, falling to the floor with his head hanging low.

All his life, since the day Nisha became his daughter, Cecil vowed to protect her at all cost, that she would not know a day of sadness with him around. What did Arturo do to her, and why was she hiding it?

Hearing the sobs of her father, Nisha felt her heart break into a million pieces. She still tried to keep herself composed, not wanting to see her father so distraught. Her mind was saying she would be a burden if she said anything, but she wanted to let out the truth. He was her father. He deserved to know what was happening to her.

"N-nothing, daddy, he has nothing over me. A-Arturo was upset, that's all. After Bo bit him, he was upset."

It wasn't the entire truth, both knew, but at least she opened up with something.

"That gives him no right to put his hands on you! How dare he?" His anger overtook shame, standing back up. Cecil took his daughter by the shoulders, "What else has he done? Tell me."

She shook her head, "There isn't anything else, I promise. This incident was the only time he ever showed h-his anger."

He let go of her, staggering to the table near his bed.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? Nisha, why didn't you just talk to me."

"I'm sorry, daddy." She started to cry all over, but not for her sake.

"What am I going to do? It's too late. It's too late now."

"What's too late?"

Sea green eyes looked to her warily. "Don't worry about it. Nisha, promise me this; if Arturo so happens to lay even a finger on you again, you will tell me. Forget whatever I have to do here. Your safety is more important than any job."

Nisha never had a chance to respond. Her father stormed into the bathroom, unable to comprehend the notion that he allowed someone to harm his daughter.

Nisha shuddered, hearing the slam of the door. She didn't know how everything escalated in a matter of hours. It was supposed to be a nice day, starting a new chapter in her life. There was an eerie feeling passing her. This will be a new chapter indeed, but not in a way she cared to acknowledge.

Heading to bed, she kept sleeping Bo near. She wished she could be back in Grantchester, peacefully sleeping without the worries about anyone lusting after her. Arturo showed a side she didn't realize he would have. His eyes were dead as he was trying to take her life. He did not care who she was when angry. While Nisha did understand his hurt from Bo's attack, she had a feeling there was another reason that fueled his anger towards her.

She couldn't bother to think further about it. All she knew was with Arturo around, she would have to walk on eggshells. Nisha would prefer his jovial, flirtatious side over his merciless antics any day.

Now, she was forced to grow up. To survive Arturo, she had to stay on his positive side. This meant to give in to his charm, to accept his touches and affection.

Disgust came over her, thinking of his touches on her waist, kissing her and holding her close.

She could just tell her father if Arturo does touch her again, but she didn't want him to give up his mission for her. She refused to do that to him. Her father sacrificed a lot to ensure her happiness, shunned by many, and endured disdain from others just because she was his child, a girl who didn't look like the rest.

Nisha's rest was futile that night, her mind swirling with questions pertaining to her future as a maturing woman.

Was this something other women had to endure, the sexual misconduct of men to move ahead in life? She did not want to be a part of that, but Arturo made sure it wasn't her choice to make.

He made sure she lost her freedom at the hand of his desires. 

The next morning, she dragged herself out of bed with dark circles under her eyes. Her body was stiff, tired from her worries. Bo tried his best to cheer her up, snuggling close and licking her face in adoration.

Movements were slow as she got dressed. Not even washing her face could make her feel refreshed. Nisha caught herself on the stairwell down to the dining room, the feeling of falling waking her senses.

She expected to see Valentina with Gino and Elena, all eating their meals. Instead, Nisha was greeted with her father and Arturo by the table. Her father seemed tense with a frown prominent on his face. Arturo was relaxed, humming to himself as he ate his breakfast, his eyes looking up to her with glee.

"Nisha, it's good to see you've finally woken up. Come, let's get you some food." He called over a servant as she took a seat next to her father.

Why was he so happy suddenly? He was still injured, and barely twelve hours before he was ready to strangle her to death for a mistake.

A plate of food place in front of her moments later, brioche and butter along with hot tea. She started to put some sugar and milk in her tea, feeling Arturo's gaze on her. Nisha did her best to keep calm. With her father near, there was no reason to fear the man across from her.

Taking a bite of the rich bread, she avoided making contact with either party surrounding her. Breakfast was silent for the most part, but the tension in the air was loud for all to hear.

"Nisha, we need to speak with you about a matter, a school matter." She took a sip of her tea, her nerves rolling in her gut. She wondered what the plans were, and why Arturo a part of the conversation.

"Seeing that you do not know much Italian, if any at all, your schooling options are limited. After much thought, and with the insistence from the Mayor, we thought...we thought it best that Arturo would teach you, from here."

With her tea going down the wrong pipe, Nisha started to cough up a storm, shocked at the revelation from her father. Did this mean she would not step foot into an Italian school? That she would be home-schooled at the hands of the last person she wanted to be around?

"This was not an easy choice, but it was the only one I could make with the circumstances. Unfortunately, I would need to travel a bit more for the next couple of months, so to assure you would have a good education and are safe, we agreed that Arturo would be your caretaker."

There was a trail of regret in Cecil's eyes, saying the last part to his daughter. He saw the change in Nisha's eyes at the realization of what he was telling her.

She ignored the handsome man across from her, anger rising in her throat.

"C-can't I head back to Grantchester and go to school with Maria? I'm sure Aunt Elanor would be more than happy for me to stay with her."

Accusatory eyes finally made its way to the culprit of the whole idea, "Are you even qualified to be a teacher?"

Her father shook his head, "I can't do that, Nisha, you know that. I would feel better knowing you were nearby, not across several countries. And yes, Arturo can teach you. He is more than qualified and has papers to prove it." Cecil did not sound convinced at the last statement, his eyes turning towards the younger man.

"For now, Vincenzo said it would be best that I sign over partial-guardian rights to Arturo while I'm away, and I did, a few days ago."

The weight of the world fell on her shoulders. How could her father do this to her? She was angry; at the situation, at Arturo, her father, and most of all, herself. Nisha knew if she had only spoken up before about what Arturo was doing, she would be on a one-way ticket back home at peace, living her life as it was before.

It was hard for Cecil to act cordially with Arturo after seeing the dark marks on his daughter's neck. She tried her best to hide it with her hair, but the hand imprint was clear to see.

Cecil hated that he had an active role in leaving his daughter in the hands of this monster, and now he had no power to stop anything without causing strife.

He knew Arturo already thought of that, his smug smile apparent watching Nisha's neck.

"Nisha, don't worry, we will get along just fine. You're a smart girl, in no time you'll know Italian fluently and all about our culture. We'll have fun together, I promise." His voice was light, and his eyes feigned innocence.

Did she have any choice in the matter?

"Of course, I'm sorry about my shock. I was excited to head back to school and make new friends." She gave Arturo a sweet, small smile.

"Of course, but I can teach you what books can't. We'll learn from experience." Nodding, she forced herself to go through the motions of a happy girl eating her brioche.

As quickly as she came, Nisha left and went back to her room to hide. With Bo on her lap, she thought long and hard about how life would be for the next few months.

She knew her worse nightmare was going to begin, and there was no one to blame more than herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I"m back lol. Sorry for being MIA for so long, I got busy with school but I'm back! I hope this chapter makes up for the missing time. Thank you for all the kudos and subs it means so much to me <3
> 
> I'm curious to know your thoughts, seeing the change in Arturo, what do you think his intentions are? How far do you think he'll go next?  
> 


	6. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentina finally opens up to Nisha about her past and is the key to who Arturo really is. Other secrets are revealed, and Nisha is forced to question who she really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I almost did it. I almost wrote 10k in 24 hours :) [ I was off by 30 mins >~<]
> 
> Anywho, on a serious note, there will be the topic of race is brought up in this chapter. I know I was trying to avoid it, and this depiction is not meant to be scaled to a real-world standard. Unfortunately, this is an inevitable topic concerning Nisha in finding out who she is, the growing pains of a teen. There will be mild slurs (like two or three mentioned) so please heed the warning.

The sun was still bright in the autumn air of October. Though it was the time of harvest, Nisha was still able to wear her summer clothes most days, layering herself with a light cardigan for modesty.  
  


Maria was long gone from the rustic country, back in Grantchester with her group of friends in school. Nisha would not be surprised if her friend forgot about her existence. It wasn't as if they were going to acknowledge one another if they were together. Out here, away from the social cliques and hierarchies of school, the two girls were free to get along and roam together. There, no one must know of their acquaintance, for Maria's reputation may be put on the line. Maybe it was a far-fetched thought in Nisha's mind, but she always saw herself as a person that the upperclassmen would shun.   
  


Nisha was the girl they would use for assignments, then ignore her when she finished. Her friend circle was slim save for a couple of classmates that would occasionally invite her to their outings when they needed an extra person. Wanting the inclusiveness, she agreed, trying her best to fit in for that moment.   
  


There was only one person she could say made efforts in getting to her for who she was, a boy named Richard. He was a year older than her (now in university), just as quiet but always caring. She could remember her first days starting her secondary years. Richard would find his way near her, not doing anything off-putting but ask her about her day.   
  


When Dora wasn't around, she could always depend on Richard to go on bike rides with and hand around the river catching frogs. It was childish, but they had fun.   
  


Now, Nisha was stuck alone, in a foreign country, with the man she loathed the most. Theodore was there, but only for a week longer before going back home to finish his studies. She would relish the times with her beloved cousin, reminiscing the bustling days and starry nights they spent together. Often more evenings than not, she would always fall asleep beside him, watching the stars dance in the sky in the back of the cottage, sitting on a swinging bench telling one another stories.   
  


She did take notice of the odd twinkle in Dora's eyes as he would stare at her those chilly nights. His thumb would always brush her face lightly, a small smile gracing his thin lips. Nisha did not pay much mind to it, thinking he was remembering when they were children.   
  


If she only knew.   
  


Most days, she would spend "in class" with Arturo, or as she would refer to him, Mr.Gasparini. Instead of heading to the Gasparini mansion every morning with her father, her destination was only twenty minutes away. The mansion next to their cottage belonged to none other than Arturo. Not only did he own the massive home, but was the one who offered her father the cottage months before as a place to stay. She knew that should not be news to her, but his antics never failed to make her go into a state of momentary shock.   
  


She would enter the modern mansion with flares of ancient Greek architecture surrounding the themes. While she was expecting him to be a firm loyalist in the Ancient Roman teachings and mythologies, Arturo did admit he preferred the dramatics and backstories the Greek writers added to their gods and adventures. The messages conveyed to the audience embodied a grand scheme he wanted to achieve in years to come.   
  


The classroom he made for her was in his library, just as big as the mayor's one, except full with a bit more fiction and a growing film collection. The walls were pristine white, marble floors beholding a grand painting on the ceiling. Luxury was of the essence for Arturo, that much was shown in his choice of furniture. He placed a desk near the window, big enough to hold all her books, near a bust of Dante mounted at the edge.   
  


Nisha expected his flirtatious nature to translate in his time schooling her, but it was a pleasant revelation to see this was not the case. He was serious about education, saying without proper teaching, the future of kin would never succeed in changing the world for the better. He would dress in the same silk shirts and trousers, except his sleeves, were never rolled up, and some days he would wear glasses.   
  


("They are for reading") **Sure** , she thought to herself, **if it helps you sleep at night**.   
  


Days would start with reading literature. Nisha was currently reading Virgil's The Aeneid, gauging how the Ancient Greek culture merged into the Ancient Roman through the hero Aeneas. It was hard to sympathize with the hero in the beginning, but as she read on, Nisha understood his purpose and felt herself joining in his cause to help his people to create what is now present-day Rome through his grandchildren. Arturo took this epic to make her history lessons about Italy. By the afternoon, he would teach her Italian, the lessons were quick but beneficial. He was patient as she tried to curl her "r"s and correctly pronounce and remember the words and sentence structures.   
  


Learning the language was not too difficult, as she knew many from before. Her first language, Hindi, was not as prominent as she left India as a toddler, but learning English and French in her young years did help her mind to learn and translate Italian quicker than most non-speakers. Arturo was delighted by her skills, complimenting Nisha on her abilities.   
  


Math and science were never on the agenda. His excuse for this was poor as it was daft; women did not need to know advanced maths and science to survive in this world, they were subjects only to be tackled by men. Nisha's jaw would tick as the presumption but said nothing. Instead, she got her cousin to give her some of his books so she would study on her own. Many evenings when she was waiting for her father to arrive back at the cottage, she would immerse herself in the teachings of pre-calculus and physics.   
  


Arturo never made any actions to touch her inappropriately while in teaching mode. Whenever he drew close, her body became stiff, fear flowing through her bloodstream as the faded marks of her neck reminded her of what he was capable of doing. She knew she would receive a good report from him, but it was not due to her academic abilities. She was smart, yes, well beyond her years, but it was her anxious nature of him that forced her to do the best while in his presence.   
  


Whenever she was busy with classwork, he would usually be busy with work of his own. Though he was never keen on speaking of his professional life with her, she did find out he was working on a new play. Nisha so happened to see one of his discarded crumpled papers with a scene he was planning out. She was curious to know what his new idea was but knowing his previous works, it may be another romance.   
  


There were moments she would feel his flowery stare on her, but it was fleeting before she could take notice.   
  


If he did behave like a flirt, it would always be during the nights, whenever Theodore was around just to bother him. Arturo would watch as the pair of cousins would chase one another in the cottage garden meters away from his property. He would flex his still injured hand as his coniglietto would openly embrace the other male.   
  


He was on edge, knowing better than to try anything while her father was suspicious. He knew choking her that night months ago was not a wise choice. Even if her father was stuck in a corner, Arturo did not doubt if he did try anything else on Nisha for the time being, Cecil Knight would not hesitate to make a ruckus and take his princess away.   
  


All Arturo would hope for was to prove himself a capable teacher for young Nisha, and in time Cecil's guard would be down once more. It would take time to gain Nisha's trust again, and now it would be harder knowing she was watching for her life, but he has no qualms that in due time Nisha would be right where she was needed, at his side.   
  


Most evenings, Arturo would go to his room, slim fingers tracing the words on the sacred document he knew held the answers to his current problems. A cheshire smile would curl on his ruby lips as he would dream of familiar cognac eyes and her soft waist in his arms, waking up most mornings hugging a pillow tightly to his form.

Yes, patience was what he needed for a while longer. The prize was worth it all.

~~~

"Don't worry. You will not get drunk off the wine. It's cooking down with the heat, so when you eat the chicken marsala, it will not do anything. Unless you eat too much." A light laugh escaped the older woman as she poured the wine into the pot.

This was the first time Nisha saw Valentina smile freely. And crack a joke.

It was a Friday afternoon, Arturo was away on business, and Valentina offered to teach the young girl how to cook an Italian meal. They were in the cottage, the sun shining through the light floral curtains above the sink. She was used to not seeing the older woman so open to express herself. It was naive to think Valentina was of stone with sparse reactions, but here, alone together, Nisha could see it was a misunderstanding on her part.

They spent the morning baking ciambella, a ring-shaped cake that looked rich in sweetness. It was cooling down as Nisha and Valentina started to make the chicken marsala, a popular creamy Italian dish that was a Sunday dinner staple.

Flour covered both dresses, Valentina's hair was matted from the mess, while Nisha held her hair back with a handkerchief. The kitchen was warm, the fragrance of wine and chicken filling the small home.

Blue eyes watched the simmering liquid, making sure it was not on the verge of burning, "It's been a while since I last cooked a meal, but it brings back wonderful memories of my mother." A sad smile was shared, one with forgotten memories and another without the memories to share. Nisha was used to cooking with her aunt, but it was an ordeal with the constant mess and chaos with food usually flying around. The memory of sticky dough hanging onto the ceiling one winter evening caused the young girl to laugh, red in the face imagining her aunt giving mild curses trying to pull down the dough with the broom. Most of it was able to come off, but the remains dried up and looked like a frog praying. It was an odd image, but it always brought a smile to her face.

Valentina watched young Nisha laughing, the most emotion from the young girl in weeks. It was odd seeing her trudging around the Gasparini halls, no doubt knowing what, or rather who drained the light from the flittering girl.

With the sauce ready, the older woman mixed the marsala, chicken broth, and heavy cream, putting the heat of the gas stove low so it would have time to simmer and bring all the flavors together. Bo found his way into the kitchen, his tongue out, salivating the food before him. Valentina took sympathy on the small fox and threw him a piece of meat.

"Come"

She wiped her elegant fingers on her skirt before leading Nisha to the small table in the middle of the kitchen. Sitting down adjacent from each other, Valentina began to break the stems of the green beans in the ceramic bowl resting on the table.

"How is everything? With your classes...your adjustments here?" She watched the young girl look down, playing with her fingers for a moment, trying to create the perfect answer. Her polished fingers reached towards the nervous child, giving a reassuring smile to her bare lips.

"It is alright, Nisha. You can be honest with me. I know. I know how difficult it can be with that man around."

Confusion crossed cognac eyes before realization hit. It was a kind gesture, but how would she know that the mayor's wife would hold her secrets safe?

It was as if her thoughts were displayed on her face. The older woman gave a bittersweet smile before sitting back. "Trust me. I know who it is you're dealing with. When I was your age, I was one of those girls who would go after him."

Now, this revelation was not what Nisha was expecting. Valentina chuckled like an elder mother, "Yes, believe it or not, I was crazy over Arturo Gasparini years ago." She crossed her legs, looking towards the simmering pot of liquids, "I was sixteen, a smart girl from a poor family. He was a few years older than me, a college student who came to visit the village on a project. All the girls would fawn over his charming acts and handsome face. He would always give the same perfect smile. His eyes held the adoration we would all fall for."

Long legs moved to stir the pot, the garlic, mushrooms, and wine, creating a delicious smell and made the young girl's stomach grumble with hunger. Nisha followed the older woman to see what needed still be finished for the meal. Adding back the chicken to the pot, Valentina began to spoon the sauce over the meat before allowing it to simmer once again. She put up a medium pot full of water, "Get me that, dear." Her index finger pointed to the box of angel hair. Small, brisk steps went to retrieve the pasta.

Standing in front of the stove, blue eyes looked through the floral curtains, a distant gaze forcing her to become that young, clueless girl.

"I remember all the girls would fight for him, myself included. For years he would come to our village, working on his projects while we all watched. Thinking back now, he was not as nice as we all initially thought. I can remember some cruel jokes he pulled on some girls, in particular, promising them acts to romance if they would allow him to touch them or say cruel words in his alluring voice." The water boiled, she stirred in the angel hair, the pasta wilting in the hot liquid.

"He would take many girls on dates in the evening, dressing them in pretty dresses with makeup making them look like women, not the young girls they were. Although I was jealous of them in the beginning, I was too busy studying so I could get into university. Being the eldest child in my family, the only choices I had was to either marry rich or pursue school to provide; and to be honest with you, I wanted to go to school. I did dream of romance like any other girl, but I also wanted to achieve great things that many women weren't able to. Many would come back the next day with mascara running down their worn faces. Most became quiet and shunned themselves from the rest of the village after that one date. There was a pattern, but I could not figure out what caused my friends to change overnight."

Turning off the stove under the chicken, she allowed the chicken to rest as she stirred the pasta again.

"I eventually asked one girl, who was not keen to tell me at first, but eventually did. She cried to me, telling me of the event of the 'date'. He was kind at first, taking them to the best restaurants in the city nearby. He would woo them with words and flowers, then drive them to a luxurious hotel to spend the evening. Although she didn't want to at first, he encouraged her to believe they would be together, that she was the one for him. After their consummation, his attitude would change immediately, and was quick to ignore her. He turned cold in an instant, going straight back into his projects as she cried herself to sleep."

Valentina's eyes were watery, remembering her friend's despair and shame. They all knew what it meant. That girl was ruined. No man wanted leftovers.

"I was always a religious girl. My family was poor but firm believers in God. I can remember going to church one evening on my knees, praying that I would not fall under the same trap. That there would be something better for me. Eventually, Arturo did approach me. He asked me out, and I said no. You could tell he wasn't used to that response. The air became tense as he gave an off-kilter smile." She turned off the stove under the pasta, using the cloth to pick up the hot surface to pour the cooked food into the metal bowl to drain in the sink.

"He was persistent, always trying a new angle to get me to go out with him. My attraction to him dwindled, the need to head to school became stronger. One evening, he invited my family to meet his father, who was not the mayor yet. At that time, he was a famous goods expeditor, the richest one. We all went, and we met Vincenzo. He was kind and very handsome for his age. Soon, he would be the one visiting me."

Her fingers trembled on the counter, "He was, he is, a very kind man. He never pushed me beyond my limit, always the gentleman. I found myself falling for him, hard. I told him my dreams of going into science, and although he did not shoot down my fantasy, Vincenzo made it clear that women were never going to make it in the man's world. A woman's place was to stay at home, caring for their husbands who worked hard, tending to their young."

Nisha's eyes were full of concern, watching the older woman crumble to the floor in a shaking ball. She crouched to her side, putting her small hands-on Valentina's shoulders in a comforting embrace. Bo threaded around the kitchen, howling as he heard the cries from Valentina.

"I was led to believe at that point," sobs overcame Valentina, "To believe that I had no choice but to marry to help my family. When he asked me, I said yes. Oh, Nisha, I do love him dearly, but there would never be a day I don't regret abandoning myself for a man."

"What did you want to do?" Valentina wiped her eyes, sniffling as she tried to regain composure, "I wanted to go into physics. I loved learning about the findings of Galileo and Newton, seeing the discoveries from Marie Curie, and the foundation of mechanics. I wanted to be the next Tesla, to invent and explore. I wanted to do something with my life. Now, I am only a mother and wife, the thing I despised from other women I embodied to the fullest extent."

"Arturo only has a hatred for me now, this much I know. Even if we act civil in the public eye, he makes it no secret of his disdain towards me, and his father. He even looks at my children with that same hatred, like that are unworthy of life and love. I cannot tell you the times I feel fear knowing he is around my sweet Gino and Elena. The thoughts of him hurting my children are always there."

Nisha retrieved a tissue for the older woman, who dabbed her eyes and nose. Her sad blue eyes looked towards the young girl, taking a hold of her shoulders. 

"Nisha, listen to me. Whatever Arturo tries to do, no matter how hard it may feel or broken he makes you. Never give in. I see my young self in you. For me, if not for yourself, please don't ever give up. Go for your dreams. Don't let any man try to stop you. You will hate yourself every day if you give into a man, especially one like Arturo. He is a hateful being. Anyone who defies him has much to suffer. Don't let that scare you, he may have his fun for now, but you will triumph."

Her shaky fingers reach for Nisha's supple face, "I pray for you often. I know what Arturo plans for you. Don't fall for his trap, please." She cried into the young girl's dress, fear taking over her body, remembering Arturo's words to Vincenzo one evening when they thought they were alone. Although she could not repeat the words, Valentina prayed to God that Nisha would heed her warning.

For the next few minutes, Nisha held Valentina close, her mind buzzing with many questions. In time, the older woman calmed down, wiping her face from distress. Standing up, she pulled herself together, washing her face from dried tears.

"Let's put the chicken marsala into the oven, just to keep it warm until your father comes, hm?" Nisha nodded, giving a small smile watching the motions of the pretty woman before her. She felt Bo rub his body on her leg, wanting attention from his owner.

"So, tell me. How are classes now?" Nisha felt a bit more confident in Valentina's ability to keep a secret. She had to trust Nisha to break down and speak of her regrets.

"They are fine. Arturo has not tried anything on me, at least when teaching. He is smart. I admit, he is very knowledgeable about history and literature. Maths and science, though, he said women don't need it."

A snort escaped the elder woman, "Of course he did. If you want, I can teach you. I may be a wife for several years, but my mind is still sharp." Nisha smiled, appreciating the support from the mayor's wife. "Of course, my cousin left me some of his books. Perhaps we can use that."

The melancholy atmosphere that filled the cottage before left, laughter, and joy quick to take over. The two females bonded over memories of baking with family and films. Nisha never expected someone who was pristine as Valentina to enjoy animation, but then again, today, she discovered many surprising facts about the older woman.

They agreed to meet up once a week so Valentina would teach Nisha how to cook and also teach her what she needed to know about 'the man's world of math and science'.

For the first time since her arrival in Italy, Nisha felt genuinely happy with her day. Cecil was glad to see that beautiful smile on his daughter's face, relishing the creamy dinner. Theodore did question what made Nisha so happy, but she refused to answer. His brows creased, curious as to how he could make her that happy one day.

~~~

As she went to bed that evening, Nisha did ponder on how many similarities she held with Valentina. If it wasn't for the difference in race and creed, one would believe they were sisters. Both women were religious, held education as a top priority, and knew of Arturo's caddish ways. Valentina found her way out with Vincenzo, but Nisha had a feeling deep in her gut she may not be as lucky.

Her cognac eyes wandered towards the open window in her room, the cool breeze blowing the thin curtains. She got up, deciding that fresh air was something needed.

She was only in her nightgown, thin and strappy but covered down to her calves. She rubbed her arms for warmth as she padded the grass to think.

Nisha was glad that Arturo didn't try anything towards her for the past couple of months. But, she knew that was due to his busy schedule over anything else. If what Valentina was saying was correct, he would be trying again soon. She was only sixteen. Marriage and children were not on Nisha's young mind. She wanted to be free, explore the world to fill her desire, and not be trapped to a man's side.

She walked around the cottage, planning what she should do if Arturo did try something on her again.

"Why are you out here so late?" Her wild curls bounced as she turned towards the familiar voice of Dora, rubbing his eyes from sleep in his striped pajamas.

"I was just thinking. Did I wake you up?"

"Of course, with your large feet thumping around the place, who wouldn't wake up?" She frowned at his joke, walking away.

"Wait, I'm sorry. You know I'm only kidding. I heard some rustling and wanted to make sure you're alright." He followed her down the path, heading further to the back where their swinging bench was.

"I know. I just want to be alone right now." Sitting down on the bench, she swung herself lightly as she watched the dim stars in the sky.

"Why so glum, chum?" Dora sat right next to her. His arm slung behind her body. "You were so happy earlier. What's bothering you?"

"Don't worry about it." She was shaking her head, hoping to ignore him would force him to leave, but instead, it gave him a reason to stay.

"You know you can always tell me, manly. Keeping your emotions locked up inside will do nothing good." Rolling her honey eyes, she rested her head on his bicep, lulling her head as the slow rhythm of the swinging calmed her down.

"It's nothing serious. I was just thinking about school and stuff. You know, I do miss England a lot, and when you're gone, I'll be all alone."

A secret smile played on his lips, hearing her words. "Don't worry. We'll see each other soon enough. Aren't you coming up for Christmas?" She shrugged, knowing those plans weren't set yet.

"I'll miss you, Dora. Our games and fun, even your annoying nagging." He chuckled, "Of course you will. I'll miss you too, Nisha."

They sat in silence, watching the stars twinkling in the dark blue sky void of clouds.

Theodore held Nisha close. From behind, they appeared to be a young couple staring into the night. He began to hum a favorite tune of hers When You Wish Upon a Star. He remembered going to watch Pinocchio with her as a young child; he was thirteen, and she was seven. She would always sing the song at night, asking him to sing along with her. Although he did find it annoying, seeing that smile on her face made it worth the trouble.

His voice hummed in deep baritone as she smiled, remember the days when they were young and free. Where did the time go?

"You know, Dora, I have to admit out of all the cousins, you are my favorite. Even though we always fight at the drop of a pin, and we go out of each other's way to annoy the other, you will always be my favorite."

His humming stopped, and the bench was still.

"Nisha, we're not cousins." He sighed, feeling her warmth leave his side. He knew she hated it whenever he would say that, but it was a matter of fact. They were not cousins. Theo could not think of her that way.

Her tranquil demeanor changed to anger, standing up from the seat, refusing to look at him. Tears flowed on her cheeks, wondering why he always had to hurt her.

"What have I ever done to you, Theodore? What did I do so wrong for you to disown me that way? Is it because I am different, that I am darker than you? Is it because we know I am not family biologically? Do I put you to shame in front of your rich friends, that you are 'family' with a darkie like me?"

Memories came fresh in her mind, remembering some neighbors back home, making fun of her as a child, calling her names like darkie and curry muncher. Her father would be quick to defend her, but never Theodore. He would only stand there with a sullen face.

Theodore hated himself for allowing her to cry, allowing her to think he felt such animosity towards her. He watched her shoulders shiver as she cried, remembering how he did feel in the beginning. It was true. When he didn't know better as an elementary student, he was ashamed of his cousin. In time, learning from his mother, Nisha was his family. He deeply regretted those days of oblivion towards Nisha, and he promised himself he would never make her cry again. He got up, turning her around to face him.

"Why would you ever think such a thing? I don't feel ashamed because of you, and I never will." His long fingers went to wipe away her tears, but she kept pulling her face back.

"No, Nisha. I never say that because I find you less than. Only simply fools would think with that caveman mentality. Your color has nothing to do with it and never will. You are too smart and beautiful for others to see you by your race." He hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead. She tried to hit him away, but she was too emotionally weak to fight. She never liked to think about this topic, but it was bound to come around at one point.

"T-then why? What other reason is there for you to say such a cruel thing?"

Gently, he raised her head with his left hand, wiping her stray tears glistening in her pretty cognac eyes. Theo's thin lips spread into a smile. Nisha watched his platinum blonde hair turn into silver strands under the moonlight.

"You silly, innocent girl. My sweet, pure Nisha. My night." Her hand moved up to his one holding her cheek, to stop whatever he was planning. Not many knew the meaning behind her name, but he did. She remembered the joy when Theo found out for her years ago. Everyone in her class knew the meaning to theirs, but not her. It was only when he was serious Theo would refer to her as his night.

She saw it, the look in his pale blue eyes. The reflection of the stars shone in them, and that expression was one she only saw in those romance movies. Nisha knew what he was going to do next.

She wasn't fast enough. Theodore bent his head down to her, his lips gently pressing on hers. Her eyes were wide, at first, surprised at his boldness.

It wasn't anything like Arturo's; Theo was gentle, soft, thoughtful. She found her eyelashes fluttering close, but only for a moment. Her knees were weak, and Nisha felt his firm grip around her waist. Without meaning to, she returned the sweet feeling, her plush lips pushing against his own. Her hands wrapped around his neck, bringing them closer together.

Nisha allowed herself to indulge at the moment, forgetting all her worries.

But as quickly as she forgot, the rationale in her mind chased her down.

Her eyes opened, pushing him away from her, making sure they were several feet apart.

"What are you doing? We are cousins, Theo!"

"No, we are not!" This was one of the few times he raised his voice to her. He was not one who yelled to get his point across.

"Can't you see? If we were cousins, why would I develop such feelings towards you? You are more than family to me, Nisha. You are the girl I've liked for years, more than a relative. More than a boy likes a girl." He made strides towards her again, "I love you like a man does a woman."

She shook her head rapidly. "No, this cannot be. Dora, we are family. We grew up together, seen one another at our messiest. Whatever this feeling you have is, it will pass. You will find a suitable woman to love in university, and you will marry her in years to come."

He laughed in disbelief, "No, you don't get it, Nisha. I love YOU." His pale eyes watered, "You will see, this is not a phase."

His hands held both of her wrists, pulling her close. "I understand that you may not feel this way now, but I had to let my feelings known. One day, you may feel the same, and I am willing to wait a thousand years if that's what it takes for you to see how serious I am."

Pulling herself away, Nisha put a hand to her head. She felt a migraine ready to erupt.

"Theo, for your sake and mine, forget this ever happened. We will never speak a word of this and will get along the same way we always have. If my father knew about this, I do not doubt that he would skin you alive."

"And what about that bloody bastard Gasparini? What would he do if he knew what that man was doing to you?"

Her honey eyes looked towards him with betrayal, "That's not the same..."

"Bloody hell it isn't! He's forcing himself on you, that much I know. You don't think I see the way he looks at you? At least my intentions are pure. He has filthy desires for you. That much is obvious."

"Look, at this moment, you are no better than him! Just stop, won't you? Let's just forget about all of this. We will wake up tomorrow acting as usual, alright?"

Still Wanting to protest, Theo's lips turned down before mumbling in agreement. Embarrassment overtook his body, realizing that she was right. He was no better than Gasparini. 

They both walked back into the cottage in silence, Nisha wondering why was it now when men started to look at her in a different light. She never expected Theodore out of anyone to like her, at least not anything more than a cousin.

She held Bo close to her, memories of others bullying her plaguing her mind. Taunts of racial slurs filled her mind, putting her back into the place of the little girl she thought was long gone. Late that night, she ended up heading to her father's room. She hadn't done this in years, but now more than ever, she needed his care.

"Nisha, what happened? It's 2 in the morning." His voice was groggy, seeing his daughter open the door.

"Can I sleep with you tonight? I'm just, just having trouble sleeping, is all." The request was odd, but he agreed nonetheless. Moving down to give her space, he patted the free spot.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

She shook her head, "Not exactly." She pulled the covers over herself, "I have a question."

"Of course, dear." Cecil was sitting up now, concern on his face. Was she finally going to tell him?

"Why is it that you chose me? What was so special about me that you brought me to England as your daughter? Didn't you feel shame hearing people call you a darkie lover and other names?"

"What's with all these questions? Why would you ever think such a thing?" He was upset, wondering what would ever make her mind go into such depths.

"Please, daddy, answer my questions. We know I'm not your biological daughter. Why then did you put yourself through the trouble of treating me as your own?"

Nisha never saw such a prominent frown on her father's face. "I will not have anyone, including you, ever question who and what I love. I cannot believe you, thinking that I would love you less or find you a burden because we are not related by blood. That doesn't matter to me. Nisha, you are my daughter. Only God could say otherwise, and I don't believe he will. You were put in my life, dear, and I had a choice to care for or abandon you. Our skin color does not define us, only our character. God made us all different; in gender, color, size, and even status. He loves us all equally, and it would be wrong for me to treat someone different for reasons other than how he acts."

Cecil hugged his daughter, "What would ever make you ask such a question?"

"I just had an old memory, of the neighbors calling me names and you had to stop them. I remember how aunty and everyone else reacted, seeing me with you for the first time. It's so hard, daddy. It's so hard being different."

He knew Nisha would have to face burdens he would never have to go through, but by God, it was hard for him to swallow. He never wanted to see his daughter hurt, be it physically or mentally.

"Nisha, all I can promise you is this; no matter how you look or what others may think of you, I will always love you. I am your father, and nothing you can do or be will ever stop me from feeling that way. It doesn't matter if we are biologically related or not. Family is formed by bonds. Don't forget, Jesus did not die for only one race, but all. All of us are born with sin, and He chose to save all of us, not just one. If Jesus can have that selfless love, we can have that too."

She nodded in agreement, knowing what her father referred to.

"Now, how about we go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow, and waking up grumpy won't help." She gave a small smile, feeling a bit better from before.

Bo found his way into the room, jumping onto the bed at Nisha's feet.

Both the young girl and fox fell into a slumber, but Cecil found it hard to rest. His mind buzzed with questions. Nisha was getting older, topics about race and gender were bound to arise. What started it, though?

Worse, how will he tell Nisha of her past? He knew eventually, one day, she would ask what her past was, who her parents were.

Would he have the heart to tell her the truth? That thought ate his soul alive. He begged God for guidance to help with the situation.

~~~

As she hoped, things between her and Theo went back to normal, as if that night didn't happen. He continued to hassle her like the younger cousin she was, and she would make faces at his dumb jokes.

Her days with Arturo's teachings started to lag. It was possibly due to her constant questioning about herself. Who was Nisha Knight? Was she defined by her race, actions, or religion? Within a couple of days, the young girl felt lost to who she was to be.

These thoughts were reflected in her work, unsure and timid. Arturo did show some concern towards her change in products, but she would never utter a word. It was hard enough for her father and cousin to understand her problem, but Arturo? He was a man of great stature. There was no way he ever felt as lost as she did at this moment. He was used to having it all, while at one point, she had nothing.

The next Tuesday, instead of holding class in the regular quarters of his library, Arturo proposed a trip.

"I am pushing a tight schedule with a production I am doing. You will be joining me today as I audition actors for the role. It should be fun, seeing people dress up and give lines, hm? Just think of it as a film in production, you like that." Without much space to rebuttal, she joined him in his professional workspace.

They went to the heart of Florence, the grand Teatro Niccolini that had its foundations for over two centuries. Arturo led her to the auditorium, both taking seats in the middle of the center rows nearby the orchestra.

Several people were running around the stage, some carrying costumes while others were working in the background. There was a rack of clothes on one end, men and women together holding papers in their hands speaking in Italian.

Arturo crossed one leg over the other, his glasses on with a passive expression on his face. Nisha was next to him, reading book six of The Aeneid. Her eyes watched as a young woman appeared on stage, dressed in a baggy light blue frock reaching her ankles. She held a paper in her hand, scanning the words.

A small, wiry man walked across the stage,his booming voice filling the room, "Carmella Rossi, audizione per il ruolo della Vergine Maria."

Arturo had a pen at hand, ready to take notes. Honey eyes watched the young girl, timid under her mousy brown hair, speaking broken English, " Papa, I have broken no vow."

A man appeared near her, "You broke every vow! Impure, you have brought shame to our family. Who is it? A soldier? Did those Romans lay hands on you?"

She shakes her head, "No, I tell truth. Believe me, please!"

"No, no, NO!" Nisha shivered to feel Arturo's heat emit towards her. He stood up, walking back and forth while pointing accusingly towards the young woman.

" Quanto inglese hai studiato? Non ricordi nemmeno metà delle tue battute? Sei tu il regista? Stai cambiando il mio lavoro a tuo vantaggio."

Putting his hands behind his back, he gave a sigh looking down.

"Sei licenziato."

All the actors and backstage crew looked at their director in confusion. Annoyance came through his voice.

"Cosa stai aspettando? Sparisci dalla mia vista, sei licenziato!"

Though she was still learning Italian, Nisha knew what he was saying. That poor girl was fired. She teared up for a moment before running off the stage and out of the theater.

The small man, supposedly Arturo's assistant, jumped off the stage and came towards his fuming boss.

"Sig. Gasparini, lei è avventato. Sta ancora imparando, ma il colpo migliore che abbiamo avuto per Mary. L'unica ragazza che conosceva così tanto l'inglese e corrispondeva alla tua descrizione. Non ci sono molte persone che fanno audizioni per quel ruolo."

With his thin hair flying about, sweat dripped on his face Nisha took note of his nervous demeanor. The poor man, he didn't want to be the next one out the door.

"Bernardo, I already warned that girl weeks ago. She refused to improve, so I must cut her. We will find another, do not worry."

The assistant's lips trembled, "We have less than two months. How will we find somebody to work in such a tight schedule."

"I'll handle that. You just get the next Mary."

Arturo rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb, stress showing with the creases around his youthful eyes.

Nisha had to admit, she never knew how stressful being a director was.

Hours passed, and the scrambling multiplied. Arturo sighed and huffed at the incompetent actresses trying for the role. Either they did not look right, could not say the lines well, or were bad actors altogether.

Nisha did her best to focus on the sixth book or the Roman epic. She took note of the power the Fates had in the Ancient Roman culture, setting forth the events for how their country came to be. While she did not believe it was true, the notion of things being predestined was not too far-fetched of an idea.

To her, God knows everything and everyone. He knows what choices she would make before she knew of them. The difference in her mind was the act of free will. She always had the choice to change her mind, to change what would happen. There was that hope in God that what ever laid before her road could change.

The Fates in The Aeneid did not offer that same optimism. From the pits of the underworld, everything was set, and there was no chance of changing it.

Her cognac eyes watched as Arturo became increasingly irritated with his situation of lacking a female lead.

During the break, she decided to ask a few questions to ease her curious mind.

"What is this play for?" He watched her with calculating eyes. A strand of light brown hair fell over his eye. It took a moment before he could present his practiced smile, "It is the Nativity story, you know about the birth of Jesus. I was commissioned to direct it for the Prime Minister's Christmas Banquet that will have many foreign leaders, including your Prime Minister Attlee and the Queen."

Her mouth shaped into an 'o', "I guess it is important you find the right people for the roles then?"

He nodded, "Of course. We want to show what our great country has to offer. We were the birthplace of the arts. How can we show ourselves subpar?"

She agreed with his sentiment, but there was another reason he was anxious. Pride was a dangerous fruit but held onto the hearts of many. It was pride driving Arturo, not only for his country but himself. How would he show himself capable if he could not carry out a successful play about the greatest miracle known to man?

She watched his demise, and even though she should not feel this way, Nisha was happy to see him suffer a little. After all the wrong he did towards her, bit by bit, he was paying for his sins. First, with his injured hand, now trouble in his workplace.

Nisha knew she would find her trouble for laughing at Arturo's pain, but in her youthful mind, she could not resist.

Arturo got up, saying he needed some air. Left alone, Nisha ate a bit of her sandwich given by the production crew, trying to finish out the last of the book.

"Scusi, you are with Mr.Gasparini, am I right?"

Her gaze moved up towards the trembling directing assistant standing in front of her. She cleared her throat, setting the book down while nodding at him.

"You speak English, yes?"

"Yes, I do." A small smile emerged on his face, "Perfect."

He moved closer to her, not in a predatory way, but desperate. A man asking a stranger for a favor.

"You must help me, please. We do not have many women coming in for the role of Mary, and a girl like yourself, young and knowing English. You are perfect for the role. Would you please try out for the role?"

Nisha choked on the dry bread, and a bit of disbelief. Her, auditioning for a role?

While she did participate in school plays, this was more than that. This was in the professional world, in front of many people.

There was no way she was going to say yes.

"No"

"Yes"

"No, I cannot."

"Please, ragazza, you must. Help me out. You must know how the director's temper can be."

She sucked in a harsh breath. Images of his dead eyes loomed over her mind. Her hand unconsciously went towards her covered neck. Yes, she knew how his temper could be.

"I'm sorry, but I can't."

"But you must!" He held onto her hand, desperate for her to change her mind.

"No," her soft voice was firm.

"Yes"

"No"

.

.

.

.

"Per il ruolo della Vergine Maria, Miss Nisha Knight."

A sigh escaped her bee-stung lips, and she rolled her honey eyes as she walked to the front of the stage. She dressed in the same blue frock as the previous auditionees. In her hand was the same paper, having some crumples from the use of wear.

Nisha didn't know what happened. One moment, she was protesting against doing the audition. Amid her refusal, she was taken backstage, dressed, and given the lines to read.

"You are our last hope. Please, help us out." Feeling some sympathy towards their situation, she agreed to try out. If Arturo didn't like her, there was nothing else she could do to help.

**It's just like the school play.** She scanned the lines over and over, **just pretend it's Mrs. Kelz who's judging you**. Putting the script to the side, Nisha began to shake the nerves out of her fingers.

Closing her eyes, she took a breath as she looked straight ahead, not having the courage to look at Arturo.

"And...start!"

She turned to the older male actor to her left, sadness in her voice, "But, father, I did not break any vows."

"You broke every vow! Impure, you have brought shame to our family. Who is it? A soldier? Did those Romans lay hands on you?"

Her stare fixed on the man who looked at her with outrage, shoulders squared slightly, but still holding the humble stance, "Believe what you want, but I tell you the truth. I carry the child of God, the one spoken of by the prophets."

She walked away as the script directed, going to the propped window at the other end of the vast stage. Going on her knees, she clasped her hands together, bowing her head. "Heavenly Father, help me in this time of need. For thou, oh Lord has done in me a great thing, and blessed is your name." Her head slowly moved up, looking towards the artificial light coming from the window.

"Cut!"

Nisha stayed in place, for a moment understanding the earthly mother of Jesus. She was an outcast to those around her, many shunning her for being different. Mary did a great deed, yet many were quick to judge her.

Arturo watched diligently as his young coniglietto played out the scene. His eyes narrowed in interest, a finger curled over his lips, seeing her play the critical role of the young virgin.

Albeit short, her performance was moving. Her eyes held the emotions he had yet to see in the other actresses, the piety and desperation that Mary would feel in her predicament.

And that prayer, she did ad-lib, but it worked out for the better. It was genuine, a woman pleading to God for help.

Perhaps, it was a good thing that Nisha reverence God to high esteem.

Dressed modestly in the blue cloth, she embodied the virginal icon not only by looks but actions too. She was _the_ young virgin.

He wasn't sure if this was for play, but there was one thought that passed through his mind. Nisha was going to play Mary, one way or another.

Bernardo found his way towards his boss, timid to ask what he thought. This was the first time the director was so silent. His eyes fixed on the young girl on her knees. From a stranger's perspective, Director Gasparini became entranced by the young girl.

"She is good, no?" His cornflower eyes flitted towards his assistant, uncrossing his long legs as he went to answer the question, "Yes, she is very good. Did she do this by choice?"

"Well, I asked her to try it out. She is young, and I thought it couldn't hurt for her to try out."

"Hmmm"

Biting his nails, Bernardo was hoping that he would be able to go home and get an early rest, that this day would finish earlier than anticipated.

"And she memorized that under twenty minutes?"

"It seems like she did, as the paper was set to the side as she came out."

Standing up, the director walked towards the stage, "Let me speak with her." For the first time in the last eight months, the wispy-haired assistant saw a smile on his boss's face, "I do believe we found our new Mary. Get her measurements, and give her the full script. We have quite a bit of work ahead of us."

Leather shoes walked towards the kneeling figure. This was going to be an interesting conversation.

~~~

After a long day in the theater, Nisha was close to passing out in Arturo's automobile. She thought her audition was going to last a few minutes, but quickly she was given the full script, and they practiced some more scenes.

"So, we will have your classes Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. For the rest of the week, we will practice for the play. How does that sound?" His eyes focused on driving on the road down to the cottage, unable to see her frazzled expression.

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea. My father may not want me to spend less time on my studies. Besides, I'm no actress." Her heart began to beat faster as Arturo slowed down on the road, stopping to the side. There were no other cars in sight, just the two of them in the middle of nowhere.

"Nisha, you did not see what I saw. Have you ever done any acting before?"

"Yes, I have for school, but those were amateur attempts. What you need is a professional to impress the Prime Minister and his friends."

His ruby lips pulled into a disparaging smile, "I know what I need, and it's you. I do not think you realize it, but you are the perfect actress. You give the emotions, and make good judgments in ad-libbing for the character."

He took hold of her small shoulders, "Let me mold you, Nisha. You are pliable now, just let me take control, and you will be a star."

Nisha thought a cruel trick was played on her. She should've known better than to laugh at Arturo's troubles.

She laughed at his thought, "Me, an actress? Arturo, I don't fit the mold for those who find glitz and fame. I want to go to school, become accomplished in something important. Acting, although a nice distraction, will achieve nothing for me."

It took a lot to keep the small smile on her face as he added pressure to her shoulders.

"Nisha, for a girl like you, the only path would be marriage. Do you think any academic would take you seriously? Granted, you are smart for one so young, but there are too many obstacles stacked against you."

His hands moved lower, his eyes looking at her with the kindness she didn't recognize.

"I am giving you another route. Don't you know, people listen to actors and actresses? They hold such power, not even scholars could denounce. Let me give you that voice, coniglietto. You have raw talent. Now, let me hone it to perfection. Trust me, won't you?"

While he did make a point, there was no way she would put her life in his hands. Nisha hated the clawing feeling that he was right. Because she was a girl, and one of color, no one would take her seriously. She would be laughed at by scholars no matter what valid points she made.

"I'm nothing like those stars, Ava Gardner, Gene Tierney. They are beautiful, poised, and have that star quality. Maria should be the girl you're looking for, not me."

His pretty eyes looked into her ones with pity, "Nisha, do not look down on yourself. You cannot see what I see in you, but you are better than all those women combined. I said it once, and I'll say it again: Nisha, I would trade all my starlets for you, and I am willing to prove it now. Let's see how this goes. If this proves to be a success, and it will, then you may see what I mean. There is a place for a girl like you in the world of stars. You may see yourself as nothing now, but I see you as my everything. You are my star, and that's all you should care about."

Her lips quirked down, hating how persuasive he was. Even though her gut was telling her no, her mind couldn't help but wonder, was this the answer to all her questions. Who was Nisha Knight? Maybe for the moment, she was a nobody, but she could be someone.

She could still be the same smart, spunky girl who climbs trees and isn't afraid to roll around in the mud. She was more than just a girl who was different for all the wrong reasons. Arturo could be right. She could be a star and have the power to say as she pleased.

Nisha could do the good she would never have the chance to do otherwise.

"How about we see if my father agrees. If he says yes, then I'll do it and see how it goes."

Arturo's pretty face was full of joy, nodding as he kissed her forehead affectionately. "Of course. You won't regret this, Nisha. I can promise you that."

The rest of the drive home was silent, but the atmosphere was full of ebullience.

"You'll be my young Mary, innocent and full of hope." He walked her to the cottage as the sun began to set. His hand found its way around her shoulders, pulling her close. It took all her willpower to not lurch away from his embrace.

"I hope to please you as an actor."

"You please me more than you realize. You are smart, humble, beautiful and hold God above yourself." He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it, "I tell you how rare those qualities are today. You would make any man proud. You make me proud."

She moved back a little, uneasiness rising to hear his words.

They reached the cottage, Bo ran straight to Nisha, causing Arturo to jump back. Holding her fox close, she turned to the older male, "Thank you for dropping me off. Have a goodnight."

He gave a smile, watching her walk into the small abode.

~~~

Heading into the lonesome halls of his grand mansion, Arturo thought deeply at the sight he saw earlier. He didn't let it show, but his heart stopped watching Nisha in the modest outfit, her hair covered by the white covering. Her actions show purity that translated into her real life.

Thinking of her as the virgin Mary, illicit thoughts of her spry body full of a child sent a shiver down his spine. The thoughts of her full with his child, their child.

It wasn't uncommon for girls her age to already be married, having at least one child running around.

Changing out of his clothes, he sat alone in his master bedroom, with the four-poster bed in the middle. The large French doors were closed, but the wind outside blew on the glass, causing a loud banging.

Only in a pair of slack pajama pants, he watched the wall, projecting the videos of the young girl he had taken months earlier.

His cornflower eyes watched as her figure went to smell the flowers, her secret smile recorded by him.

Her supple frame running away from him, body moving sensually for a girl so young.

His breathing quickened, heart rate rising. He felt the intensity in her honey eyes. Though black and white on film, he could only see the rich brown and red colors merging as one, golden flecks when she was curious or happy.

Movements became quicker. The images running off the film and through his mind became risque by the second.

Arturo recalled one day seeing her by the cottage, alone and vulnerable. He was only going to speak with her father, but he wasn't around. By chance, he saw her by the window, oblivious to his stare as she walked into her room. There was a towel wrapped around her. Her wild curls were wetted down with water.

Oh, how he wanted to ravish and claim her at that moment.

He had the perfect view, his home angled close enough to watch the family, like little figures.

The fantasy of her pretty voice softly calling his name.

Arturo, Arturo.

Arty.

My love.

Her soft body against his. Her hands around _him_.

He thought what it would be like to have her heed to his every command, to hear her say, "Yes, Arturo."

In a quick moment, everything froze.

He took a moment to relish the satisfaction before clearing all evidence of his lustful desires towards the young girl.

He put the film back in its sacred place, hidden among his other belongings.

Even with his desires towards her, Arturo didn't want her ruined. He may touch her and tease her, but something was holding him back from doing anything more.

If he did anything, it would ruin her perfection in his eyes, and he didn't want that.

He wanted to possess her, to own her, but not taint her, yet.

Golden curls splayed on his pillow as he went to rest, alone, in the dark room. As he closed his eyes, the only thing haunting him was her eyes, and that pretty smile he never got to see anymore.

He could only hope that this last reprieve of making her his muse would help him achieve what he wanted more than anything else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the dark undertones of this chapter, but I do hope you all enjoyed learning more about Nisha and Valentina. 
> 
> I suppose the next question will be what Nisha's next steps are in figuring out who she is meant to be, and whether her father would reveal the truth about her past. 
> 
> See you all next time <3


	7. Cleansing Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Attempted sexual assault, among many things. 
> 
> Nisha is faced with several new hurdles, and Arturo's plan might work out for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it guys! Over 200 pages written in a three-month period. I just want to thank each and every one of you for the support you've shown! I couldn't have done it without you all <3
> 
> All I'll say is Arturo's evil streak went up about 10 notches, be warned.

Birds chirped in the trees, rays of sunlight giving light to the dark kitchen.

Loud sounds came from the spotless kitchen, a ruckus that could wake Rip Van Winkle from his slumber early. Feet padded through the marble floors, hands slamming down bowls and utensils on the granite tables.

Dark circles formed around pretty eyes, a rare sight for the likes of Arturo. He found himself struggling to sleep the night before. The stress of the play was getting to him. There was only a month left before it was life for all the world leaders to witness and hopefully enjoy.

Sitting by the table, he poured the shredded wheat into his bowl, adding cold milk after. Cereal was not his typical breakfast, but he was too tired to make anything fancy for himself.

He could imagine the hearty meal eaten next door, no doubt some traditional English breakfast. He also thought of the extravagant meal in his father's home, made by the chefs. He munched his breakfast, looking around his empty table, licking his lips before spooning more cereal.

Distant memories came to mind, having his fancy meals alone as a child, surrounded by silent servants meant to keep him company. His father was always busy running his business, "Non hai tanto potere quanto me stando seduto tutto il giorno." His voice would be gruff and dismissal, not doting like it was now with Gino and Elena.

And his mother. Arturo's poor mother. She suffered all day in one place, bedridden soon after having her only child. He was only allowed to see her once a day, and those visits were marred with ignorance and hatred.

"A volte vorrei che non fossi mai nato. Buona liberazione, forse questa è la mia punizione per aver dato alla luce un mostro come te."

She would never look at him when saying those soft, harsh words. Her dark curly hair was lank in sweat. Through the reflection of the window, Arturo watched her grey eyes dull with defeat. Arturo would cry at first, never understanding why his own mother would say hurtful words to him. How did he do this to her? When he would ask his father, the older Gasparini would shrug while reading his newspaper.

He was envious of his classmates. Although poor, at least they had their families to run towards. For the holidays, he would stick to his room watching families outside having fun, laying in the snow, or would hear their untuned voices singing Christmas songs.

Now, even at the prime age of twenty-eight, that feeling of loneliness still stabbed his heart. His cereal became too soggy. His appetite was gone before deciding to get ready for the day. His grandfather clock in his parlor struck seven on the dot. Nisha would be arriving soon.

Stripping off his nightclothes, he went under the piping hot shower. He passed long fingers through his golden-brown curls, closing his eyes as he allowed the burning sensation to beat on him.

His thoughts moved towards the family living barely three kilometers away. The father-daughter duo was closer than glue. Truth be told, he was envious at first, realizing how well they communicated with one another. Even if her mother was gone, Nisha should be glad to have such a caring father around. Although Arturo was not a fan of Cecil's constant presence, he would never deny that the diplomat was a good father.

Arturo promised himself when he finally had children of his own, there wouldn't be a day he would not spend time with them. He would always love them and kiss them and give them the best. He would be a better man than his father. He would make sure his children would not suffer the way he did.

Putting on his usual attire of a silk button-down and trousers, he combed his hair into place. His eyes became distracted for a moment as he watched the mirror. There was the piece of velvet ribbon that belonged to his little bunny. A rueful smile came across his face, touching the smooth texture of the string. He couldn't believe how many months passed since that day in the church. She wouldn't even utter his name, and now they would spend hours on end with one another, quickly building bonds.

It was the mere thought of the pretty girl that ceased his depression.

He pulled on a sweater, taking note of how cold it was now. The days were full of rain, and the wind chills did not help. Even with the oddly sunny day, the coldness surrounded his mansion walls.

Clearing his throat, Arturo's leather shoes threaded to the lavish library, putting on the fire early, so Nisha would not be cold while studying. He took notice of her shivering the past couple of days. She would try to deny it, but he watched goosebumps rise on her skin, the hairs along her arms would perk up, shaking in trembles.

He walked outside to his balcony, pulling out a cigar as he watched the small figure of his girl walking down the pathway between his mansion and her cottage. If she was not fast enough, she would be late.

A smirk donned his handsome face, blowing out smoke. Yes, it would be nice to punish his ciccino for something. He remembered back in September when she was first late to their 'class'. Even if it was only ten minutes, she was wasting his time, and he took no pity on her. He was quick to reprimand her for being so sloppy. He knew it affected her, as she did her best to not make comments or avoid him.

Nisha was the girl who didn't like to be on anyone's bad side, her conscious unable to bear anyone being angry with her for long. That observation was quickly realized, as she would be quick to apologize and please others.

He watched his gold watch, the seconds ticking slowly as Nisha's small figure started to close in towards the entrance of his home.

He walked to the front, feeling the eyes of the Greek statues surrounding his halls coming to life. They were watching to see if he would be defeated by her brisk steps or elated that she lost the battle. He sprinted to his door, the ticking of the grandfather clock echoing in his ears.

5

  
4

  
3

  
2

  
1

  
Right as the clock struck eight, the doorbell rang. He opened his door, watching the young girl breathing harried breaths.

So she knew she was walking on a thin line.

His blue eyes focused on the rising of her chest, pressing on her uniform tightly. She would need a bigger shirt soon, eyeing the strain of the button holding her modesty together. Just a simple tug and it would all be revealed.

He hoped it would happen soon.

"Ahh, so nice to see you on time, Nisha. I thought we would need to have another talk about being punctual." He gave his winner smile, wanting her to melt at his charm. But, like many things with Nisha, it was only a dream.

She gave a nervous smile, "Of course not." Walking past him, she went straight towards the designated room where she would stay for seven hours.

Closing the door, ruby lips became sour. Today was going to be a long day for both of them. 

  
~~~

  
"This is very good."

The crackling of wood in the fireplace soothed her nerves as Nisha watched the critical blue eyes reading her paper.

With all the games he would like to play, she had to admit Arturo was academically superior to many of her teachers, even her father. He had a sharp eye for analysis, and his thoughts were sophisticate.

The glare of his glasses blocked her from seeing the pretty flowers in his eyes. But, his words did reassure her. She watched as his right hand held onto the red pen, twirling it around before circling a sentence on her paper.

The nerves came back, maybe he would take his compliment back.

Fifteen minutes of silence, and pen marks, halted her heart before Arturo finally looked in her direction.

She sat upright on her leather seat, her finger threaded in front of her.

"Your analysis is strong. There were some mistakes in the clarity of some of your statements, but the analysis overall was sound in discussing how Aeneas represents Ancient Roman values of suffering selflessness. Your take on Dido and Aeneas is interesting, the dichotomy of her sacrifice of love and his inner battle to fulfill the destiny of the Fates. Albeit that we may not see eye to eye, particularly with how Dido was in the end tricked by the gods and therefore unjustly suffers when Aeneas is cold to her at the end of their relationship." He turned one of the delicate, handwritten pages over, his eyes looking back towards the argument she wrote.

"There is food for thought within your view. Your argument is rather strong. I must admit this does not read as a paper written from a secondary student, but entering or in university."

She smiled at his compliments. Nisha knew at this moment, Arturo did not say empty words to flatter her. He was serious. For once, his eyes showed an open expression.

"Thank you. I did try my best to flesh out that specific idea. Dido was a victim of Aeneaus's inevitable journey to Italy, another hurdle for the hero to overcome in the end." She looked down at her fingers, "Do you not know what level I'm in?"

Arturo crossed his arms while sitting back in his seat, "No, I assumed you were at the appropriate level for your age."

"And this is the work you give? It's good you aren't a teacher as a day job." She pulled on her skirt, "If you had read over my transcripts, as I'm sure you were supposed to, I'm in my final year. I need to get ready to apply for university."

Arturo was not too familiar with the British schooling system, but hearing she was over a year ahead in her schooling was impressive.

A full smile was on display, "Well, congratulations. I believe that you want to pursue a higher education, which is good."

I wouldn't agree, but I do not have any say over that. His thoughts were bitter, thinking of Nisha in university, surrounded by men of intellect who could take her to a corner and woo her. The thought of her surrounded by men made his blood boil, his ears shading in light pink.

"What is your plan? Literature, history? Child development?"

"I want to be a lawyer."

A pin could drop from the lack of sound in the room. Arturo was at a loss for words at her outlandish choice.

The smile was wiped from his face for a quick moment before he bellowed in laughter, folding in half as his face became red. He laughed for several minutes.

Nisha watched his reaction with disdain. She was not surprised that he would think her dreams crazy, but he could have the decency to at least mask it.

Her cognac eyes saw the streaks of tears rolling down his face.

"Nisha, I know you are ambitious, as you should be, but there is no way you can be a lawyer."

Her brows furrowed, "And why not? You admitted yourself that I have skills in making sound arguments."

"For a girl, a girl who is in secondary school. This," waving her paper, "is only a minuscule paper about a story. Lawyers deal with real life, and it is a cutthroat business. You cannot be emotional or attach yourself to the case, and you know how you women find emotion in everything. Women are to stay at home and care for the simple aspects of life, the home, and family. You can pursue higher education, but you should not put your ambitions too high to become someone of that caliber."

What little optimism she had to her prospects flushed down the drain as he spoke his words. Her heart-shaped lips trembled. Maybe, he had a point. At this moment, she wanted to cry at his critique. To be a lawyer, you needed thick skin, and if she gave a reaction at this moment, Arturo would be proven right.

Rolling her shoulders back, she blinked away her tears. "You can think what you like, Mr.Gasparini, but you need to see that our world is changing. If you cannot remember, it was women who stood at the homefront as men fought the war. And they did a swell job too."

She began to shuffle her belongings. All she wanted was for this conversation to end.

Arturo did not mean to hurt her so badly, but Nisha did need a reality check. No matter what fantasy her father allowed her to believe, the truth was she was never going to make it in the world of law and order. Or the lack of it.

"Why don't we focus back on the good, hm?" His hand stretched towards her, holding onto her trembling fingers in support.

She did look at him, but the slight movement of her head and dark curls gave him the affordance to change the topic.

"Now that we know the story of Italy's grand formation, I think we should start moving backward. The myths of the Greek gods and goddesses are quite fascinating in showing the fickle nature of humans through the actions of these deities." He stood up, long limbs stretched out as he walked down the rows of books, picking up a thick leather-bound book from the top shelf of one.

"This will be the book you will be reading. Take care of it. It's the first edition." She held it in her hands, an English translation of Greek myths.

"We will start with the story of Europa, the woman our beloved continent was named after." Turning to the page indicated from the table of contents, she began to read the tale as Arturo was back to detailing changes for the play. Today was not a practice day (thankfully for Nisha), but that never stopped him from working on it in his free time.

She became engrossed in the myth in hand, heart reaching out to the young maiden who was tricked by that wretched god Zeus. It was grotesque, tricking and abducting her to do as he pleased. Why were men so horrible?

When she finished, she sat back with a distant look in her pretty eyes. Nisha hadn't realized it, but Arturo was too close. He inched closer bit by bit as she became engrossed with the words before her. She pulled back with a gasp seeing his flowery eyes mere inches away from her own.

"So, what do you think?"

"It..it was fine. Not surprising that Europa would be the origin story for Europe. There seems to be a trend in the myths. The reward for sexual violation is a material good. In the case of these women and demi-gods, lands and countries dedicated to them as appeasement."

"You think so?" Arturo crossed his legs, looking towards the book thoughtfully, "They did please great gods and men. The dedication was a shrine of sorts to commemorate the pleasure given to them."

"So, sex should be a commodity for women? If they can please powerful men, then it would be compensation be receiving jewels and other material goods? In the case of Europa and women in these myths, they should accept the assault these powerful male figures would place upon them?"

She felt disgusted running through her veins, thinking of someone trying to appease her by buying her something. The memory of Arturo giving her the dress and doll she didn't even have after his harassment made her realize she may be no better than these women.

"They were chosen by the greatest of greatest in mythology. It was an honor to consummate with the gods. Even present day, women are usually honored if a celebrity or leader chooses them as the apple of their eye, even for a brief moment."

"I wouldn't be so forthcoming. You could be the Prime Minister for all I care, and I wouldn't give in to such wiles. Why should women think so little of themselves?"

"Prime Minister, hm? You do think highly of yourself."

She turned to him with anger striking out, "How dare you! I only mean to say it doesn't matter how powerful a man is. It wouldn't make me change my mind. If I say no, I mean it. There can be no seduction that would make me change my mind. Look at Dido, she was manipulated by the goddesses, and look what it got her, a broken heart, and she found herself dead. Aeneas didn't care, for he got what he wanted. All men are the same. You all want one thing, then you'll leave." Nisha knew it was her father's words that echoed in her tirade, but she knew them to be true.

"I suppose you believe then it would be better to remain celibate the rest of your life then?"

"If I could help it, possibly. No good comes from sex."

Arturo laughed, "You will never know until you try it."

"Well, that will not happen any time soon. And if I can help it I would not even marry."

"Don't say such trivial things. All women want to be married and have children. You too will realize this in time."

"Why? Many females remained unmarried and unscathed in the game of love. Look at the Greek goddesses like Athena and Artemis. They remained virgins and were great women in Greek culture."

His fingers found her shapely thigh, dancing upwards towards a sacred area, "Nisha, you're telling me that even if you were seduced, you would remain unwilling to reciprocate?"

She felt her cheeks bloom with a rosy shade, with his touch burning her skin. She tried to move, but he seized her tightly with his fingers.

"N-no, I wouldn't. And you would be wrong. This would not be a seduction, just an assault."

"A seduction, my dear. Women need to be persuaded into saying yes. It is only comely for a woman to deny at first, to save their womanhood." His peppered kisses along her neck, his hand moving up to her waist, stopping just short of her breasts.

"Stop. Please, stop." She tried to pry his fingers away from her, anxious to get away from his grip. Her lips were screwed shut, fearful that he would make his point here and now.

"Unlike the myths, once a man claims his woman, she belongs to him. Only him."

His large frame pushed her back, his cold fingers under her shirt. She gave futile attempts of pushing him back, twisting her body in all possible angles.

"Dear Lord! Please don't do this to me." She started to sob, fingers in his face stopping his attack. 

She found a grip on his cheek, her nails digging in before scrapping him.

"Stronza!"

With his focus on the pain emitting through his face, she took the opportunity to kick him, hard. Nisha pushed him off of her with what little strength she had left, running through the dark halls of his mansion. She cried, tears blurring her pathway to safely escape.

Reaching his brown door, she tried to pull it open, but it was stuck. She looked to unlock it, but nothing would work.

"I do not trust a flimsy lock to protect me. The only way to get out is with a key, my key." Shivers sped down her spine, her eyes wide in horror, hearing his voice. She took slow steps turning around to look at him, his pretty face scratched with long bloody marks from her fingers. In his left hand, there was a lone key, the key for her escape.

Blood dripped down his jaw and onto the collar of his shirt.

"You are quick. I will give you that. You forget, ciccino, in the end, I am the one who gives the final say of where you are and how you will be while in my household."

He stormed towards her, his right hand quick to grab her by the neck, slamming her body against the wall. She gave a mewl of discomfort, refusing to look into his intense gaze.

"You are quite feisty. I love that about you. There's something animalistic about your fighting me. Don't worry, I will train that out of you, just like your wild pet. You only need to listen to me, and you will be happy." His blood filled lips kissed her, hard. She kept hitting his chest, but he only slammed her body again.

There was no sound from her.

There were no thoughts.

Everything was blank, her mind gone into the abyss of darkness as Arturo knocked her out and into his arms. 

  
~~~

  
Red swam in thick clouds, a blaring noise breaking them into droplets in her mind.

Hands were foggy, trying to reach up. A dark, distant figure stood still a mile away. She could feel herself watching the hands struggle, only to realize it was her. It was her hands reaching up to the dark figure, the red clouds covering their face.

Thumping registered next. Nisha thought her mind was exploding into a million pieces.

She was out of her body. All intact, yet far in conscious.

"No, no, No!" was all she heard. A small cry, wanting nothing more than for it to stop.

Familiar eyes were before her. Blue eyes, but they did not seem human. They were the eyes of an animal, beastly, and ready to consume her soul. The curve of a nose was next. The resemblance was closer to a Greek statue than rich Roman blood with Paris, Prince of Troy coming to mind. Red, supple lips formed in a sly smirk, high cheekbones taking color. He was all too close, but that wasn't what scared her.

It was what came after.

Baring teeth, they belonged to one of a wolf than a human, sharp and ready to kill. His hands coming to her were claws, slashing pain through her mind.

She was moving, back and forth. Back and forth.

Her body was falling.

Falling deep into the redness of her mind.

Falling into reality.

Gasping, she pulled herself up, fearful that she was falling off whatever she was on. Her body was sore. The red pain was spreading throughout her body, specifically the back of her head and neck.

Her body felt different, used, and violated. The second set of hands ghosted over her body, but no one was near her.

Face drenched in a cold sweat, Nisha trembled under the light blanket covering her.

Her breathing was haggard, honey eyes darting around the room. For a moment, she did not recognize the darkroom encompassing her. The ceiling was painted with whimsical angels, and the ethereal clouds she wished had surrounded her.

A cold towel was placed on her head. Out of instinct, she pulled back, a scared rabbit in a new situation. Her dilated eyes looked into the haunting blue eyes again. The animal lust was gone.

Now, they were full of worry, and those ruby lips were downward.

"Nisha, how are you feeling?"

Her face pulled in pain and confusion, her hand slowly reaching to her head, wanting nothing more than to lie down again. She didn't want to talk, slightly shaking her head.

Strong slim fingers, not claws, had a firm grip around her shoulders, leaning her body back onto the soft pillows of the bed she was on.

Why was she on a bed?

Her eyes moved a mile a minute, looking outside the big window to see the sharp shadows of bare branches blowing in the wind.

"Where am I?" Her mouth parched, a soft voice sounding hoarse before a glass of water was brought to her lips.

She closed her eyes, relishing the cold, refreshing liquid as it went into her system, making everything just a bit clearer.

"You are in my room. Nisha, you aren't feeling well." Arturo watched the young girl comprehending his words slowly. The speculation never left her pretty eyes, but an immediate sense of calm started to show.

"Oh?" It didn't sound right to her. The way her body was hurting, and that looming feeling that all was not right, physically.

"How long was I out for?" She rested her head in her hands, a hazy glaze clouding her vision. Her head was pounding like a woodpecker on a tree.

"It has been a while, almost a day if I remember correctly."

His eyes didn't betray the somber ambiance his body gave off, the shadow of his face hiding sinister intentions.

Her gut told her to move away, but there wasn't any way to do so. Nisha tugged her hand out of his grip, but Arturo was quick to hold onto it.

"What did you do to me?" She wasn't sure why that was the question. All her mind kept drilling in her was this was a danger zone. What had happened before, she could not remember. One second she was with him in the library, and now suddenly far up in his room, on his large canopy bed.

Her stomach swirled in uneasy waves. Why couldn't she remember?

"I did not do anything! Why would you think that?"

"I am not dumb, Arturo. I feel hands on my body, your hands on my body."

Nisha watched his head shake in disbelief.

"You know, I thought we were making progress. We were becoming friends again. Now, you want to say I did something to you? What kind of man do you think I am? I know I made mistakes, coniglietto," his fingers soothingly rubbed her trembling hand, "but can't you see I turned a new leaf?"

" I am sorry you feel like that. You tumbled down the steps from the library. I came to get you, and you were unconscious. I called a doctor to make sure you are alright. He should be here shortly."

Nisha felt her stomach churn. Her insides felt queasy, wanting to hurl out her guts. She pressed a hand over her mouth, scared she would mess up his silk sheets. With the thought crossing his mind, the older male was quick to retrieve a wastebasket, placing it by her.

For several minutes, the young girl bent her head over the receptacle, heaving into it as her eyes became watery. Whatever this was, she could only pray that it would stop. Though her track of mind was slower, the thoughts started to form in her time of trouble.

Indignation rose in her chest. If there was anything she knew about Arturo, it was his masterful skills in deceiving others. He was capable with his handsome face and bewitching words coiling around like a snake.

Raising her head, she watched him with teary red eyes, and he wiped her tears away.

A sigh escaped his full lips, "There's not much time to worry about it though. Other concerns are pressing." He stood up, walking to his table to retrieve sheets, and came back to her side.

"Nisha, it's about your father. He's missing."

Whiplash hit her face-front. "E-excuse me?" She couldn't wrap her head around that.

Concern flashed through his cornflower eyes, "Yes, I just got the news while you were out. This morning, he was on the way to the capital to meet with the Prime Minister, and then some men took stopped his car, taking him. We are searching for him now."

The pain she felt became numb, the panic of her lost father overtaking her. Her legs were quick to move. The focus was to find her father. He couldn't be gone.

He just couldn't.

Nisha attempted to get off the bed, her body failing as she almost fell to her knees. The only thing stopping her was Arturo's quick instincts.

"Don't hurt yourself any further. We will find your father, I promise you that, Nisha." His arms encircled her waist, her body sagging towards the floor. Soon, they both were on his sapphire carpet, sprawled out as he held her close, hands combing her curly locks. The life knocked out of her. Cognac eyes tried hard to stay open.

Nisha did her best to get up on her own, but her limbs were heavy. Her entire body was pulsing in short rhythms, as a xylophone cruised upon the surface. It was light, but with enough pressure, it could overpower.

Strong hands pushed her up, her body now leaning on the bottom of the bed. Her breathing was rough, wanting nothing more than this nauseous feeling to go away.

Sitting up, Arturo brought forth the documents, "Since you are the closest family member here, you need to sign these for me."

"What is this?" She took them in her hand, cognac eyes scanning the Italian words. She only started learning the language a couple of months now, and unfortunately, her skills were not on full document level yet.

"This is just a document saying that we need your permission to go on with the search, that you acknowledge what has happened." He pointed to one of them, then brought the next one forward, "And this one is stating since your father left me as your partial guardian, with him currently missing, I will act as your full guardian. You must sign and agree that for the time being, you would stay with me."

Her heart faltered towards the second document, "I'll stay with you?" Nisha was afraid to look into his eyes, not sure what she would be met with.

"Yes, only until he is found, of course."

"Your father left you in my care for the duration you are in Italy. It is my duty now to care for you." 

She wasn't too sure about it, "Wouldn't it be better that I go home? I mean, at least there I would be with family. And I wouldn't want to be a burden to you." The excuse was frail, but it was the best thing she could come up with on the spot, with her mind running slower than usual.

"Well, your father already signed everything for you to stay here, with schooling, and unless he also put your aunt as a guardian, it would be best if you stay here for now. Everything is already set here for you." His fingers were quick to pass her a pen, "All I need is your name and birthdate."

She was going to take the pen but pulled back her fingers. "Maybe I should wait. I need time to at least read this on my own."

"Nisha, I don't think you can read a whole document in Italian by yourself. You know you have not studied Italian so much on your own, so if anything, you can blame that." His tone was not accusatory, but it did strike a nerve.

"Still, as you said, I need to take it easy." The papers were slightly crumbling in her straining grip, "I just came through, and I am very confused. Maybe I should wait for the doctor to clear me."

"No," Arturo shook his head, "we need this done, now. Don't you care for your father, Nisha? He is out there, somewhere unknown, and you are delaying the resources to search for him!"

She hated that he was right, absolutely despised his cool nature in the heart of her troubles.

"Nisha, please sign it. Your father is a signature away from being found."

Nerves hit her. She was scared that this was all happening too fast. Arturo was up to something. Nisha knew that much. Her mind was screaming that all his words were lies, and maybe she should wait to sign the papers.

"How about I go over it with somebody. Madam Giuliani could help me. She seems trustworthy."

His mouth twisted, and its familiarity sent a shudder down her spine. That was not the right thing to say.

"You trust her over me? I've known you much longer than her. Do you think I am trying to deceive you now? I cannot believe you, Nisha! How can you think me so ill to do that? What proof do you need? His abandoned car, with the broken glass and blood littering the floor? Or do you need to see the pieces of his tattered clothes that ripped off of him?"

Tears prickled her eyes, imagining his words. Seeing her father fight and struggle for his life from low-life degenerates. She started to sob at the thoughts, salty teardrops hitting the paper, making it thin enough to see through.

"No, no. Don't cry." His fingers were wiping her tears away, "I'm sorry. You are distressed right now. It was not wise for me to throw hasty words your way. I understand your need to wait and read it over, but this is a matter of life and death. I know you know that, but please, for the sake of your father, sign the papers."

At the height of her emotions, she wanted to run and hide. The last thing she needed was Arturo's insistence on doing this hastily. If this would make him leave her alone and help her father, she would sign it. She wanted her father safe again. All he wanted was to be back home with him, back to the days when they would bake and spend time listening to the radio.

Just this morning, they were sitting peacefully in the kitchen having breakfast. Nisha and her father had plans to go into the city during the weekend to bond, shopping around for supplies for one of his projects.

She can feel his kiss on her forehead, affectionate, and full of love.

Nisha wanted to be in her father's arms again, the warm embrace of home.

Submitting to this defeat, she signed the papers with shaky hands, writing what was needed to ensure her father's return. It felt more like a ransom's notice than document papers, but what choice did she have?

She would give herself up just so her father would be alright.

She passed the papers to Arturo, who got up and put them back on his desk.

Knowing her weakened state, Arturo picked her up and put her frail body back on his bed.

They both sat in silence for a few minutes, allowing the situation to seep in.

"What will happen now?"

"Well, why don't we wait for the doctor to tell us what happened? Then, we can move forward." 

Giving a slight nod, she rested her head on the soft pillows. Nisha closed her eyes for a brief moment, before remembering the demon and opened them back. 

This was going to be a long day. 

  
~~~

"È bello vederla, dottor Giuliani. Grazie per essere venuto con così poco preavviso." 

  
Thick curls shifted as Nisha moved her distracted gaze from her twiddling fingers to the stranger who entered the room. She watched his dulled out shoes pointing in her direction, and his dark slacks had sparing wrinkles along the pant legs.

  
His olive green dress shirt was also wrinkled, tie slightly loose around his neck. He was thin, and his slim body towered an inch or two above Arturo. Cognac eyes watched the hollow of his neck, going up to his face. 

  
Nisha was frozen, struck by the doctor's face. Blood rushed to her cheeks, seeing the pleasant smile on his thin lips. 

  
"Hello, I am Doctor Giuliani." His voice didn't hold the same Italian tinge everyone else had. It was there but rolled out by the strong English pronunciation in his deep voice and soft words. Nisha swallowed a lump of air, "Are you Madame Giuliani's son?" 

  
His brows creased as a curious smile passed his lips, "Yes, I am, but how did you know?" 

  
"It was just a guess. And you both have the same sable eyes." His small, sharp eyes crinkled at her compliment. 

  
"Thank you, I suppose you've met my mother?" 

  
Nisha nodded, slowly trying to set herself upright, "Yes, she's a very nice person." 

  
A clearing of a throat caused the two pairs of eyes to turn towards Arturo, who crossed his arms in front of his chest, "Albeit your initial acquaintance is nice, I would prefer if you see what's wrong with her first." 

  
"Of course." Doctor Giuliani moved closer to her, "may I?" Giving her silent agreement, his hands moved closer to her head, lightly touching the back of her scalp. 

  
"Ow!" It was a soft cry as his fingers passed the middle of her head, moving his fingers quickly to the front of her face. 

  
The doctor took an object out of his bag, a small flashlight. "Don't look into the light." 

  
He shone the light into her eyes, watching the cloudiness hiding behind the brilliant brown and gold flecks. 

  
"How did you get hurt?" 

  
She slowly shrugged her shoulders, "I'm not quite sure. I was passed out for some time and can't remember anything." His eyes narrowed a bit, turning to the lone man standing five feet away. "She fell down some stairs. It was a long fall." The doctor's face was reserved for emotion, turning to the young girl. 

  
"Are you feeling sick? Neasous? Is it hard to move?"

  
"Yes, I am feeling a bit weak in the stomach, and I have a terrible migraine." His fingers touched her forehead, then held a feather grip on her jaw, tilting her head. Her heart started to beat fast, feeling his soft fingers on her skin, butterflies flew around her queasiness. She couldn't meet his gaze. 

  
"Well, you have a mild concussion. You need to remain on bed rest for at least a week. Sleep and icing the bump would help. I will prescribe some painkillers, and if you need more, just let me know." 

  
Arturo walked closer, hands itching to pull the doctor's hand away from her pretty face. 

  
"She needs rest. I suggest you get her back home as soon as possible and let her parents know about the situation." 

  
"She will be staying with me for the time being." 

  
Blinking, the doctor looked at the young girl before him, then back at Arturo. "What happened to your face?"

Arturo's hand reached to his marred cheek, remembering what had happened the day before. "Nothing, I had a run-in with a savage animal and it scraped me up. Nothing too damaging." His eyes moved from the doctor to Nisha, her oblivious face not remembering what she did to him. He bled for hours when she was out of it, a string of curses escaped with the immense pain.

"Should I take a look at it? You could get rabies from that." 

"It wasn't that kind of animal, thankfully. I did put it in its place, so it is fine." 

The doctor's brows creased with the encrypted words, before understanding the meaning.

  
"Sig. Gasparini, would you leave us for a few minutes? I need to discuss some matters with the patient in private. I do not think she would find it appropriate if you were here listening to it." 

  
The placid line on Arturo's face quirked down, standing still for a minute before looking at Nisha, "Would you like that?"

  
She nodded. "Yes," she gave a smile of reassurance. 

  
He forced his feet to walk out the door, his hand squeezing the doorknob as he tried to contain his anger. 

  
With the coast clear, the doctor gave her another smile, a caring smile from an older brother. "Can I ask your name?"

  
"It's Nisha." His eyes lit, hearing the name, "Ahh, I know who you are."

  
"You do?" Her cheeks were red as tomatoes, not sure how he knew of her. 

  
"Yes, my mother, she spoke of you more than once. She is fond of you." Nisha was glad to hear those words, knowing that there was someone still by her side.

  
"Now, with him gone. Can you tell me what happened?" 

  
Her eyes cast down, "I really don't know. I only remember being here for lessons, then waking up to this bed." 

  
His dark eyes watched the forming bruise on her neck, "Did Sig. Gasparini do anything to you? Our private conversation is confidential. You won't have to worry about him knowing." 

  
"I am not quite sure." 

  
"Has he ever...touch you in the past?" Disgust rose in his gut with the thought of this young girl, or any for that matter, being harmed sexually by a man with Gasparini's power. 

  
Nisha was not sure if she should tell him the truth. While Arturo did do stuff in the past, he was adamant that this time was not one of them. Did she believe him? Not quite, but accusing him would only make matters worse. 

  
Seeing the trepidation in her eyes, he put a comforting hand over her trembling ones, "It's fine. You do not need to answer. Just know you can always call me if anything were to happen. I grew up with him. I know what type of man he is." 

  
Grateful tears prickled in her eyes, thankful for someone caring, "Thank you, Doctor Gasparini." 

Her honey eyes looked at the slight flaring of his straight nose and the one lock of his dark hair falling over his face. It looked soft. The short waves helped to give his face structure.

The doctor pulled out a small card from this bag, "Please, call me Marco. This is my card. If you need anything, and I do mean anything at all, don't hesitate to call me." Her fingers took the eggshell white card, fingers passing over the raised letters of his name and phone number attached to it. It was all in Italian, but she knew enough words to read 'head of'. 

  
"Adieu, as the French would say. Get some rest." Her heart fluttered, watching Marco's figure walk away. 

  
Her heart caught in her throat. Nisha was unsure of this feeling overtaking her. She did think him handsome, and for the first time, understood Maria's words of men and love. From this first meeting, he did seem kind, and there was a quirk to him she knew when feeling better, she would appreciate more. 

  
Tucking the card into her pocket, she lost her smile, seeing Arturo's presence again. 

  
"So, what did he say?" 

  
"Nothing much. He was only asking some questions about the injury and said something about his mother." 

  
A gruff noise emitted from him, "Did he give you anything?" Her heart rose in fear, wondering what he was thinking, "No, he didn't give me anything." 

  
Arturo kept his hands in his pockets, watching Nisha with serious eyes. 

"Nisha, even though you are not quite yourself at this moment, and several terrible things have happened in the past few hours, I must make one thing clear." 

  
He took a few steps closer to her, and out of instinct, she moved her body away. His quick fingers moved to her skirt, fumbling into the pockets until he retrieved the desired item. 

  
"I will not tolerate dishonesty of any sort in my household. I do not know what your father permitted, but here, you must never lie to me. Do it again, and you will not like to know the consequences." Nisha never heard his voice so dark before, and his eyes only spoke of authoritarian anger. Frantically nodding, she clasped her hands together, "I'm sorry." 

  
He breathed out, a smile quick to form on his face at her surrender. "I know you are. Come, why don't you take a hot bath as I retrieve some of your items from the house, hm? We'll have dinner and get you settled in." 

  
Agreeing with him, the fear never went away as they committed to the plan. Even when going to sleep later that evening in a separate room with Bo by her side, she couldn't help but watch the door, scared that any moment he would enter and do as he pleased. 

  
All Nisha could do was question God as to why she was facing all these troubles. 

  
For the first time in a while, she fell asleep with unanswered questions. Keeping Bo close, she prayed that Arturo would leave her alone for the time being and that her father would come back quickly to take her away from this hell. 

  
Without realizing it, Nisha was changing in outlook. Her hope that was always there was slowly diminishing, and hatred started to form in her heart. 

  
If there was anything she learned from a young age, hatred could make a person do surprising actions and is strong enough to take them down. She should only hope her emotions would not dig her grave wide open. 

  
As she slept, Arturo was in his room making calls. The moon flittered on his handsome face as he stood by his window, wrapping the phone cord around his fingers.

  
"È finalmente il momento. Dobbiamo essere veloci a mettere in atto il piano."

  
~~~

Tugs of the thin-tooth comb were harsh on her hair. She bit back grunts of pain from the knots freed.

"Please hold still! You know if everything does not look right, Director Gasparini would not like it." The thick Italian accent wrapped around the words. The older, robust woman in charge of the young girl's appearance was crunching on time.

Grounding her heels, the young girl did her best to comply with the command. Ever since she was on bed rest last week, her body became a bit more sensitive. Despite all the rest, there was a soreness surrounding her limbs, she was slow in movement, and even Arturo at one point made comments about it. She could tell it was beginning to frustrate him, her constant absence in acknowledging him and doing the actions as he wanted.

Today, he invited two special guests to watch practice. Maybe he thought it would give all the actors and crew some motivation. There were only three weeks left until the play was complete. It would be a travesty if something went wrong.

Mayor Gasparini sat in the middle, and next to him was the church bishop. She thought maybe it was for accurate depictions that the bishop came to see what was happening, but why the mayor? It was nice to see him again, and she planned on asking him if there was any news about her father.

It was a hellish week, and most of it had been due to the missing status of her father. Every night she would wake up for hours on end, her mind wondering where her father could be. Was he safe? Was he alive?

To the last question, Nisha would find herself crying. She had no clue what would happen if her father was gone forever. He was the biggest part of her life. Without him, she didn't know how to survive.

Arturo was kind in giving her hope, reassuring her that her father would be found and safe too. He was gentle with her, giving her the space needed to process this news.

He went to the cottage to retrieve some of her belongings. Nisha refused to ponder on the thought of him seeing her most intimate articles of clothing, but what choice did they have? She was not supposed to get up from her injury, and for the most part, he made no lewd comments her way.

Although he did not teach her for the rest of that week, he made sure she was learning her lines. For two hours every day, he would sit with her rehearsing, making sure every line was said impeccably, giving the emotions he wanted.

Now, it was showtime. Nisha needed to make sure she did not mess up in front of the mayor and bishop.

Walking to the stage, she gave a nervous smile before looking towards Antonio, the actor playing Joseph. He was a nice guy, quiet, but sweet. There were times Arturo would become angry with him, saying he wasn't acting out the role of Joseph correctly.

The director would often go and take his place, acting out the scenes with Nisha. It would alarm Nisha, the rawness of his emotions in portraying a man who loves his betroth, even in these unfamiliar circumstances.

They were going to rehearse the marriage scene now, before moving towards the journey to Bethlehem.

She pulled slightly on the right undergarments. Since Mary was pregnant during this scene, Nisha was forced into wearing a fake belly. It was only a small pillow stuffed into a nude bodysuit, but still very uncomfortable. She had no reason to wear bodysuits in her everyday wear, so to have it on now, adding with the pillow, her insides were tightening unpleasantly.

It was hard to believe women would put themselves through such devices to attain a curvaceous shape. Nisha didn't have the willpower to do it.

As they were practicing the ceremony, which for some reason was modernized, Arturo was quick to cease the scene.

"Stop, this is not right. Antonio, how many times must I tell you? You need to show the emotions of a man who wants to protect his wife. Someone willing to defy society to honor what the angel told him. You are weak, too weak! "

All watched the young actor's face flush in embarrassment, pity going out to him while Director Gasparini had his fit while walking on stage.

"Joseph was a meek but strong man. When it was time, he stood up for what was right. Besides, he did truly love Mary, wanting nothing but to protect her and the child."

Pushing the wiry man aside, Arturo took Nisha's small hands into his bigger ones. " Let me show you. Bishop Luciani, would you please join us."

Arturo waved his hand for the production crew, "Tutti quanti, venite qui! You will now witness how we must show forth this scene for the officials in the coming weeks. The audience must be moved, and we must do our best to provide the atmosphere."

The bishop joined Arturo and Nisha on stage, a Bible in hand.

"Dearly beloved, you have come together in the presence of the Church's minister and the community your intention to enter into Marriage may be strengthened by the Lord." The bishop's voice was frail, and his accent as thick as the hairdresser's.

Uneasiness rose in Nisha, something was wrong. Why did the bishop start with the usual ceremony words, and not vague?

Her eyes were trained on the collar of Arturo's shirt. He was dressed quite formally for a day practicing the play. His hair was also neat, combed out of his face with the curls framing his angelic features.

"Arturo and Nisha, have you come here to enter into Marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly? "

"I have." Arturo's voice was firm, while Nisha was confused. She looked up into his pretty eyes, whispering, "Shouldn't he say, Mary and Joseph?"

The male in front of her gave an off-kilter smile, "Not to worry, it is just a practice. You know he is old." He gave a smile to the bishop, whose eyes narrowed at the brash comment.

Accepting the explanation, she looked towards the short man, "I have."

Bishop continued the ceremony, making both repeat the words of the oath.

"I, Arturo Gasparini, take you, Nisha Knight, to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life."

Her hands were trembling, the thought of running away passed through her mind more than once.

Run, run! was all she heard. But even when she tried to move her hands, Arturo kept a firm grip.

He wasn't going to let her go, not now. Not ever.

For several minutes, silence embodied the auditorium. Everyone in the audience watched intently to see what would happen next.

"Nisha, say the words." His voice was soft, but the urgency was clear. He squeezed her hands, forcing her into place. She looked up at the bishop, who eyed her expectantly with beady black eyes.

This scenario wasn't real. They were not in a church, and she wasn't in a pretty white dress. Besides, she told herself, Arturo isn't that crazy to think she would willingly enter into a marriage with him. It wasn't possible.

Cognac eyes peered shyly at the cornflowers dancing in the sun. Her long lashes fluttered before she finally succeeded in the demand. "I, Nisha Knight, take you, Arturo Gasparini, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life."

Sighs of relief came from the crowd, and the bishop gave a nod.

"By the power vested in me, through the will of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Nisha was not expecting him to go through the motions, but she was quick. Seeing his face move closer to hers, she moved her face to the side, causing him to kiss her cheek. It was rough, indicating how he wanted to proceed.

The crew cheered for the performance, and the mayor sat quietly in his seat.

Nisha was unable to look at Arturo, shy from the performance. His eyes were trained on her, fingers grazing the wispy curls on her face.

Finally, she ran to the back to hideaway.

But it was too late.

His heart fell, watching her run. Looking at his father, the slight nod gave him the power he needed.

It was done, finally.

Sharing a final look with the bishop, the director smoothed his suit, going back to his seat and calling for a break.

A small smile formed on his ruby lips. It was only a matter of time, and all would fall into place.

~~~

There were many changes Nisha faced in the past five months. From moving to Italy to living with Arturo, and she would never get used to it. Maybe it was because it was the first week, but knowing how she was all alone with him at all times, made her self-aware of the danger she could be in with his presence.

  
Since the 'marriage scene' Arturo was adamant to show in front of the bishop and crew, she found herself hiding from his gaze like in the beginning. He was delicate with her, treating her more than just a plaything. His touches were gentle, and he always held a hazy smile.

  
Arturo gave her space, which she was thankful for, but Nisha knew it would only be a matter of time before things would escalate.

  
They went to the cottage earlier in the day, Nisha becoming teary watching the once warm cottage house become cold and empty before her eyes. She rushed to her father's room first, hoping it was all a fever dream.

  
She hoped to see him on his bed, reading the newspaper with ruffled hair.

  
Sobs escaped seeing the bare room, dark without the owner.

  
While collecting her stuff, she decided to take her father's nightshirt. His familiar scent was on it, a temporary comfort until he came back for her. She wrapped it around herself like a security blanket, and when Arturo tried to pull it off her, she hissed at him as Bo would.

  
Albeit a short stay, Nisha would miss her time in the cottage. She hopes to one day convince Arturo to allow her to stay on her own, to have some peace for herself.

  
When she became better, Arturo made sure to set rules. They were not terrible, most stating that he knows where she was and different way of her listening to his every command. Not even her father was that strict. He trusted her enough to know right from wrong, yet Arturo didn't seem to understand that concept.

  
Unless he was working in his office, she was usually with him. Arturo wanted to ensure they shared meals, which was annoying to her.

  
They would sit in the dining room, and he would always force her to wear dinner dresses. The first night, she defied his orders and was met with fumed anger and his berating her ability to behave like a lady. She was not allowed to eat dinner that night and watched him eat the salmon as her stomach grumbled.

  
Since then, Nisha made the effort to dress up pretty, just so she would be able to eat.

  
It was still early in the evening. The sun did not fully set. The sky was a beautiful orange shade with the clouds rolling towards the west.

  
She was in the bath, Bo lying down on the floor beside her. The bathroom itself was huge. The checkered marble floor was perfect without any cracks. The sink and bathtub were white, and the reflection was spotless on the faucet.

  
Her hair was up. A single curl fell on her face. Bubbles were overflowing, and she had fun with it.

  
Blowing some towards Bo, she watched the paws of her beloved little friend reach up to touch it. Bo would blink away as the bubbles would pop, allowing her to give off a melodious laugh.

  
Nisha dunked her head into the bubbles and water, happy for the much needed time alone.

  
Pulling herself back up, she wiped the water out of her face before opening her eyes.

  
"AHH!"

  
Nisha hid back in the thick bubbles, petrified seeing Arturo's tall figure standing before her.

  
"What are you doing here?" It was the first time she screamed at him, unloosing her hair to cover herself.

  
"You were in here for a while. I wanted to make sure you're alright." She looked up at him with the burn of cognac staring into him, his throat feeling the bitterness.

  
"Well, you've seen that I'm alive and well. Please, leave." In true fashion, he gave his smirk, staying put.

  
"Don't be afraid, Nisha. I've seen it all before, not on you, but I am...familiar with the female body, so to speak."

  
Sitting by the edge of the bathtub, his fingers glided along with the bubbles. The girl pulled herself back into the tub, keeping him far away.

  
"Please, Arturo, I'm asking you to please leave me in peace." Her hands moved up, covering the tops of her breasts, knowing in no time, the bubbles would soon fade, leaving little to the imagination.

  
A cheshire smile painted on his face, "You're going to catch a cold if you stay in here any longer. Here, just let me help you."

  
"No, leave me alone. Can't I have a moment to myself?"

  
His smile dissipated. His anger was quick to set in. Standing up, he turned to grab the closest thing to him, Nisha's towel.

  
"Have as long as you like, but you're not getting this back." He walked out of the bathroom, taking her only piece of modesty with him.

  
Nisha called out in protest, hearing the door click from the other side. Quick to get up, she nearly slipped on the glossy floor. Jangling the door, she muttered a curse, realizing he locked it from the other side.

  
So that was how he was going to be? Either he saw her naked or lock her in here until she submitted to him? Shaking like a leaf in the rain, Nisha wrapped her arms around her, sitting on the edge of the bathtub draining out the water.

  
Bo pawed at the door, also wanting to roam free from the four walls. Sniffling, the young girl looked around to find something to keep her warm. There was nothing around.

  
Arturo had this planned all along.

  
For hours, she was shivering in the cold. The sky had glittering stars dancing along with the moonlight.

  
She was beginning to lose hope, her baby fox already asleep on the floor.

  
When she was close to submitting and begging Arturo for help, she heard the unlocking of the door. Jumping into the tub, she pulled her knees to her chest, hoping to cover as much as possible.

  
"Are you ready to behave?"

  
He was already in his night attire, which was only a pair of silk pajama pants. In his hand was her ticket for another night of escaping his illicit desires.

  
"If an apology is what you're looking for, I'm not giving you one. Please, give me my towel, and I promise I wouldn't run away tomorrow."

  
She mustered the most serious stare possible, but that didn't stop him from laughing. Crouching over her small body, Arturo gave a dark smile.

  
"Even if you were to try and run away from me, I will find you, Nisha. You can run to the ends of the Earth, and I would be right behind. I suggest you don't make such fanciful comments like that again. I wouldn't take kindly to them a second time." His eyes drifted down to her naked body. Brief, but it was all he needed.

  
Placing the towel on her, he walked away.

  
"Oh, and I don't like locked doors in my house. If you were smart, and I know you are, you would stop that too."

  
Covering her body, she accepted the external warmth, but inside she felt an ice bucket had just poured over her head.

  
Picking up Bo, she went off to her room, putting on clothes as quickly as she was physically able to.

  
It was another night without food in her stomach, and the tightness pained her. She cried herself to sleep again, dreaming of home.

  
When she awoke, there was a storm outside. The thunder woke her up. She scrambled herself out of bed, seeing the stormy weather. The trees were shaking violently with the howling winds.

  
She whimpered at the sight before her, hating she was alone.

  
"Why, God? What did I do to suffer this way?" She was crying, shivering with some sneezes in between.

  
Bo was of no help, as he slept through the noise. Her hands covered her face with the emotions overtaking her. How was she to bear all these troubles?

  
"Nisha? Are you awake?" She looked through her fingers to see Arturo standing before her. It was his favorite thing to do today.

  
"What's wrong?" He sat next to her, wiping the tears off her face.

  
"I-I-I'm scared." He has a hush before pulling her body into his warm embrace.

  
"It's okay. I'm here." At that moment, she accepted his act of kindness. She pulled herself close to him, not wanting to let go.

  
"I'm sorry for my cruel joke earlier. It was mean of me. I don't want you to be scared."

  
He pulled back for a moment, watching her pretty eyes in tears.

  
"I know I may not be the best in showing emotions, but I do care for you, Nisha. I think I love you."

  
Her breathing stopped hearing his words. It was just like Theo's confession. She was not sure how to handle it. The difference was there was fear in speaking the truth to Arturo. He had shown Nisha he could act cruel on the whim if she said the wrong thing.

  
"I think everything that has happened in the past few weeks is a blessing in disguise for me. Forgive me for seeing it this way, but I would have never realized how I felt without your constant presence around me."

  
"I-I...I don't know what to say."

  
"Then don't say anything, just accept it." Pushing her down gently, he started to kiss her. She told him to stop, but he kept on with his actions. The kisses were slow and open. He kissed along her neck and jawline.

  
Suddenly, he stopped. Taking one last look at his little bunny for the evening, Arturo thought it best to lie with her, so she would at least have a good night's rest.

  
Even with his actions from earlier, for the transition to happen smoothly, he needed to show how kind he can be. It wasn't that he couldn't be kind, but it was so hard to restrain himself around her.

  
Still, for the sake of everything, he was willing to make it work.

  
"Goodnight, ciccino. Have sweet dreams."

  
He kissed her cheek, humming her an old lullaby as her tired eyes closed. The storm soon left. 

  
The only sound left was the water droplets of the night.

~~~

  
Cold.

  
For the longest time, all he felt was cold.

  
Eyes were blinded from the light with a black scarf, stomach burning from acid, and hunger. The smell of burned skin filled nostrils.

  
Cecil Knight was suffering, and he only prayed it would end.

  
He was in his car one morning, heading to the capital when suddenly some men stopped his car. They pulled him out, covering his head with a bag before knocking him out.

  
Time was not measured anymore. All he wanted was for Nisha to be safe. He knew what may happen to him now, and his main regret was not getting his child out of this situation fast enough.

  
There was the creaking of the door, footsteps making their way towards him. Lips were blue, unable to make a sound. His throat was dry, hoarse from the screaming.

  
The chair he was on kicked off-balance, throwing his body to the concrete. His face smashed in, feeling the bones in his nose break, and his teeth clattered on the rough surface.

  
A pool of blood was forming, but he wasn't allowed the moment to seep in that pain. Pulling off the blindfold, the person who was the source of his demise was in front of him, smirking at the ruined face.

  
"Mr.Knight, so glad to see you are alive and well. We thought you were long dead."

  
It hurt to breathe from his bloody mouth, but there was no other choice. His sea-green eyes looked towards the older man with hatred, the first time having such an emotion-fueled within himself.

  
"Vincenzo..." that was all he had the strength to say.

  
The Mayor of Florence watched the broken man before him, hands in his pockets before lighting a cigar.

  
"You thought you were smart, didn't you?" He walked around Cecil, "You did get away with it at first. I must tell you. I don't like anyone pulling wool over my eyes."

  
Puffing out rings, he went close to the latter man's ear, "I knew you were a traitor."

  
"I did no such thing! My loyalty is to my country, and I did not betray them. I stood by my country, but you did not."

Cecil watched the glint of metal in front of him now, "Oh, I did my land no justice? I am bringing them profit with my work, and we will have our great honor restored in no time."

  
"What..what you were doing, it was a breach of the peace treaty drawn up and signed. You were willing to destroy Italy for your greed."

  
A sob escaped Cecil's lips, feeling the piercing of metal through his collarbone, dragging slowly as blood seeped out.

  
"Please, what greed do I have? I want for nothing. When I was a young boy, yes, I wanted that power. I grew up and attained it. I am a leader. What I do now is to help my people." A maniacal laughed escaped the mayor.

  
"You had no clue of who I was, did you?"

  
The tied up man started to give out slower breaths, it was hard to form thoughts. "I. I did. I did know who you were. You run the Maggioli Crime family. It was smart, putting it under your mother's maiden name. No one would suspect you when you ran, hm?"

  
"You fool. You impetuous fool." Vincenzo pushed the knife deeper into Cecil's chest, carving into the flesh.

  
"It doesn't matter the name I use. Everyone knows who I am and what I do. And you know what? The city still voted for me because of the protection and money I provide. They would be stupid to come out against me."

  
Cecil gave a silent prayer, wanting to see his daughter.

  
Sometimes, the devil knows your fears too.

  
"Cecil, my friend. Unfortunately, you must pay the price for your actions. I am sorry, you were quite a good friend."

  
"P-please, I don't care what happens to me. Nisha, my dear Nisha. I want her to be safe. She does not need to know about this. She is only a child."

  
"She is a woman. You know it as much as me."

  
Sea-green eyes watched the sinister glare in the blue eyes of his enemy. The fear of the worse was deep in his gut.

  
"Don't worry about her. She is in good hands. Do you know my son, Arturo? He is taking good care of her."

  
His sobs turned to soft whimpers. The physical pain was nothing compared to his heart.

  
Why must Nisha pay for this? She was not in the wrong. Neither was Cecil.

  
Why did evil win?

  
"You know how...fond he is of her. She does ask about you often, only wanting to see you safe." He took out the knife from the carved chest. The words "maiale infido" was written in flesh and blood.

  
"I promised her she would see you again, that I'd do my best to find you. She is a sweet girl, your daughter. I understand what my son sees in her. Luckily for you and her, I tend to keep my promises."

  
Vincenzo bent his head to look at the hapless man before him, "I will not kill you, thank your lucky stars for that. You will feel pain, this I promise you. I promised that she would see you, but not you see her."

  
It did take some moments to register the words. Cecil's body was in survival mode, conserving as much energy possible in his frail state.

  
His eyes widened at the realization. "No, no. Please, not that!"

  
"Then you should have never messed with my family business." The last image Cecil saw was the knife raised above his head, the dark blue eyes laughing at his pain.

  
"AHHHH!!!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hoped you all enjoyed this chapter! I won't be updating until Christmas, so buckle up we're gonna have a holiday special (finally!!)   
> I know it took me ages, but we are finally introducing the mafia arc into the story. Only took about 70k words lmao *sweats nervously* 
> 
> Please do leave your thoughts on what happened and what you think will happen next. 
> 
> With love,   
> Becca <3


	8. Nights Are Forever Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arturo overworks Nisha to the bone. 
> 
> There will be hell to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Self-harm

"No, no, no! That is not how you hold the knife."

Cognac eyes stifled an eye-roll as Arturo's voice rose. Out of all things he should be teaching her, why was cutting a ham so important?

She had the prongs in her left hand and the chef's knife in her right (truth be told, she should be holding the knife with her left hand, but Arturo forced her to do otherwise).

"If you hold it like this, it will be cutting with the grain. This is not something we want, or else the ham will not be appetizing. Who would want to eat a haggard piece of meat?"

A perpetual frown graced her lips. For the last month, Gasparini made it his goal to ensure Nisha knew all the skills of a proper young lady. She always thought that her manners were up to par, but he notified her that was not the case.

It began with placing the tableware, then having a thorough understanding of laundry and how to clean the house. Arturo showed her his skills in cooking wanting her to know how to provide a hot meal on days he would be late. He ensured she learned proper etiquette for their future outings so she wouldn't bring him to shame.

Now that he was her guardian, it was his responsibility that Nisha would step into the best lady she could be.

Nisha initially did not mind the lessons, but she noticed the pattern of spending more time on her 'social skills' and less on her academics.

While in the beginning, she would still spend every day on some schoolwork, now, she was lucky if they sat down for an hour twice a week.

Arturo refused to teach her any maths or science, saying they were not subjects for a young lady to ponder. He didn't allow her to take the books her father left in the cottage, so Nisha was beyond her wits in curiosity, wondering how she would learn what was needed to complete her schooling. While reading old Greek plays and myths was nice, Nisha's mind craved to learn something new. Something factual that held substance beyond the imagination.

With the night of the Christmas play coming closer, he forced her to spend hours practicing. She would be forced to go through the emotions and scenes with Arturo several times throughout the day. He often made her wear the outfit, embracing the image of pure and holy Mary.

Nisha was used to his serious nature when he was in director mode. But, for the last two weeks, it bled into their personal life.

A shudder passed through her as Arturo came close behind her. His warm frame molding into a furnace around her body. It was welcomed begrudgingly, especially when he wouldn't allow her to wear more than some flimsy nightdresses before dinner.

Since her father went missing, Arturo started to change certain aspects of their dynamics to show himself to be more than a guardian. One specific way was the attire. He bought Nisha several nightdresses he thought would look pretty on her. They were all flimsy and frilly, like a little girl's outfit, but the cloth was tight against her skin. She would often try to stretch it out to create some space and comfort, but Arturo would smack her hands for attempting to ruin "such a beautiful piece of clothing".

Since Nisha thought of herself to be a person who enjoyed eating, she was forced to wear the nighties, sometimes giving a twirl at Arturo's command. He was always in his regular attire, his cornflower eyes often resting on her youthful form.

For their dinners, he would always sit at one end of the grand table. Nisha was to his right. He said it was a privilege for their private dinners, and when there were guests (which he would imply might happen around Christmas), she would have to sit on the other side of the table.

His excuse was that they should enjoy their time alone while it was at hand.

What Arturo forgot to often mention to her unsuspecting mind was with the fire right behind her. It gave him a rather toasty view of her.

It was the only reason he wasn't overly eager to move forward so quickly yet.

Sometimes, the view was enough to satisfy cravings.

Nisha's cheeks reddened as Arturo's thin fingers enveloped her small ones, adjusting her wrist to hold the knife properly. His body bent down just enough for his tall form to cave into hers, his head resting on an exposed shoulder.

His golden curls tickled her cheek. He guided her hand to cut the ham properly. The cut was smooth and a lot easier than she expected. Arturo stayed there to cut a few more slices, then released her hands to allow her the chance to do it.

His rough cheek was right next to her soft one, prickling her skin. In the last few days, Arturo became so busy with his activities there wasn't a chance to shave. He usually liked himself clean-shaven, but the new look was growing on him.

He also appreciated the way Nisha would squirm whenever his bristles made contact with her skin. His fingers flexed feeling her move out of his touch, but he wasn't going to let her go.

Not yet, and if it was his way, not ever.

Sticking her tongue out slightly, Nisha did her best to imitate what the older man did. It would take some time for her wrist to get used to the angle. For her first time, she didn't do too bad.

"It will come with time and practice. We will practice this every day if needed." Instead of leaving, Arturo lingered on her, wrapping his hands lightly around her waist.

Nisha felt uncomfortable with his touch burning her. She cleared her throat to indicate this, but either Arturo didn't take the hint, or he simply didn't care to move.

He made her plate the food for both of them. Along with the ham, scalloped potatoes and dinner rolls were baked, courtesy of Nisha's craving for some food her aunt made back in England. It was not something they ate often, but eating the warm potatoes and rolls brought back memories.

When they sat to eat, Arturo proceeded to speak about his plans for the play.

"We will have to head there early in the morning to begin practice. It is imperative that you not make any mistakes. Not that I am complaining, but you could work on your delivery in the scene where Mary and Joseph are looking for a place to stay. While you do have the correct expressions, there isn't the right tone in your voice. Mary is supposed to be anxious not to find a place while she is heading into labor. It is a painful experience, a rather scary experience for a pregnant woman."

Her cognac eyes were downcast, nibbling on her meal. Whenever he would critique her performance, the famish once overtaking her dissipated with his displeasure.

Arturo was quick to praise her in front of others, but behind closed doors, he would always find something wrong.

"I only want you to be perfect, amore. To be my star, you need to work hard. If I didn't believe in you, trust me when I say you would only be working towards the life of being a housewife. I found a special talent in you. Let us not allow it go to go waste."

His smooth fingers cupped her cheek, bringing her shy eyes to look at him. He had his disarming smile in her direction, trying to assure his beauty that there were only good intentions in his actions.

Her mood was not brightened by his words. Being reminded time and time again that her only position in life was to become someone's housewife was disheartening.

And sometimes, Nisha did wonder if Arturo meant that she would become his housewife.

An intuitive person by nature, the young girl was not blind to what Arturo was doing. Slowly, but unfortunately, surely, Arturo was molding her into the perfect person he wanted as his own.

Arturo wanted a woman of class but not aloof. Someone who would listen to his demands but still had some fight left to give in to his need of a chase. Someone naive and young, but still managed to think for themself.

His hands went into her wild curls, petting her raven locks in soothing strokes.

Without anyone around, Nisha was always on high alert to what damage he would put her way. Memories of his constant assaults in the past were still fresh in her mind. And the incident a months before, she still had no clue what caused her attack, but it would be daft not to suspect Arturo of doing something wrong.

Without any familiar faces in sight, young Nisha was left to deal with the devices of sly Arturo, a battle that would become a recurring cycle for the rest of her life.

Arturo's smile vanished, seeing her lack of response. Why was she always difficult? All he wanted was for Nisha to be the best. She had all the right qualities needed to be a leading lady. The looks, expression, and graceful coordination. All she needed was the right teacher, and he was sure to be the one for her.

Instead of questioning her lack of response, cornflower eyes went back to the delightful food.

"While I do not often eat such a combination of foods together, I must admit that it does taste quite good. You should be proud. I will teach you to cook more Italian dishes soon. No man would be able to resist such delicious foods."

She bit into a piece of juicy ham, her tongue swiping her upper lip to take in the saltiness.

Arturo's gaze remained on her supple lips, imagining those lips on his.

"Thank you."

Since they started to share Arturo's mansion, Nisha became a quiet soul. She was never a talker when it came to Arturo, but with her father gone and the director always trying to control her path, the poor girl kept to herself. Arturo wished he could read her thoughts, but she was a closed book behind her cognac eyes.

There were times Arturo would go into her room when she was away and search for any clues to know what she thought of and if she had any plans against him. The most he found was an old mathematics book, but that was not something he would become too upset over. While he didn't see the need for her to learn anything advanced in that subject, it was better she chose to study in her free time over than conspire against him via secret letters to England.

Arturo was always on the lookout to see if Nisha had some plan up her sleeve. For now, she proved herself faithful to him.

It wasn't that she was faithful to him (and deep down, Arturo was aware of it), but without knowledge of her father's whereabouts, he was her only hope.

Even though he shouldn't take advantage of that hope she held onto, it was tempting for Arturo to forget about her issues and do as he pleased.

When they finished the meal, Nisha cleaned the dishes like the good girl she was, and Arturo beckoned her to meet with him in the parlor.

Just like her father, Arturo took a liking to comb her curls in the evening, braiding her hair in front of the fire. Nisha would sit quietly, watching the blazing flames before her as his fingers would entangle in her locks.

"Give me a pretty smile, hm? I feel like it's been so long since you've shown me your happy face. Don't I deserve that?"

He turned her body around, forcing her to watch his cornflower gaze. It wasn't that Nisha meant to be rude, but there was nothing for her to smile about.

Most nights, she would fall asleep from the exhaustion from the play and Arturo's constant lessons in domestic life. It was all taking a toll on her, and with the anxiety of her father still missing? Smiling was not something she could give Arturo on a whim.

If Arturo took notice of her dilemma, he didn't say a thing. All he wanted was his fantasy of Nisha coming before him.

All he wants is his coniglietto bending to his command, before him in her pure white silk nightgown, calling out his name in pleasure.

This moment was perfect.

He stood from the armchair, his shadow overcasting her minuscule form.

The scene was romantic, standing by the fireplace in the cold of winter.

Her wide eyes were full of innocence as he moved his hand to her waist, soon turning into the fear a young bunny would have when cornered by a wolf.

He moved to kiss her, to consume her soul and make them one.

Nisha should've known that Arturo would eventually make another pass at her, but she didn't expect it to happen so soon.

Out of instinct, she pushed him away, falling to the ground and too close to the fire for comfort.

She could feel the sparks fly about her, her hair mere centimeters away from burning.

Arturo's face became sour seeing her reaction, running away like he was made of acid.

Did she hate him that much?

"Why can't you give me what I want?"

His voice was hushed at first, looking away from her cowering form.

Nisha scurried away from the fire, trying her best to escape to her room.

Cornflower eyes were suddenly full of anger, rushing to her frail body to shake up the poor girl.

"Haven't I done enough for you? I take you in when your father is gone, make you my star, even take the time to teach you how to be a proper woman. I bring you into my home and ask for nothing but your company, and when I want something more, you refuse? Who do you think you are to reject me?"

"I-I'm sorry!" There was nothing else for Nisha to say. She didn't know what more he wanted from her. She did as he asked all the time, wore what he wanted her to.

She...

She even allowed him to keep her company as she took her baths. The last thought made her stomach turn sour, but she was weak against him.

"You're not! If you were, then kissing me wouldn't be such a grave issue. I ask for nothing but some affection after all I've done to care for you. But you have shown yourself to be nothing but ungrateful. If you wish to be this way, then fine, but I will show you what happens to little girls who decide to be haughty."

Arturo dragged her unwilling feet out to the cold marble floor, heading outside the grand mansion into the cold December night. It was snowing, and with nothing on but the thing nightgown, Nisha succumbed to the coldness too quickly. Her teeth chattered as goosebumps rose, trying to give some warmth.

"Where are you taking me? Let go!"

She used what strength she had to pull away from his rough grip on her wrist, but it was all for nought.

Her bare feet tumbled in the snow, hurting from the cold and fast pace of Arturo. He didn't say a word as he took her to his desired destination.

Though it was only minutes of walking in her height of terror, time slowed and felt like hours.

Suddenly, amid the falling snow, there was the familiar sight of the cottage Nisha once lived in with her beloved father.

Tears sprung in her eyes from the memories. A bittersweet taste filled her mouth.

There were no good intentions behind Arturo's choice of destination.

He dragged her through the small cottage, throwing her on the empty bed in her old room.

"You are an ungrateful little brat. Why don't you see what it's like to not have a warm room to sleep in? A bed with no comfort? To be alone in this empty house with no one caring about your wellbeing? Maybe then, you would realize all I've been providing for you."

He was red, cornflower eyes lacking the usual amusement that became a characteristic trait to him. Arturo watched his coniglietto once more in her scared state, tears rolling down her pretty round face, before slamming the door behind him.

He locked the cottage behind him, hoping that maybe he would hear her screams for him in the night.

Maybe she would run to him and comply with his desires. Nisha would be more than willing to give in to his needs as a man and become Arturo's once and for all.

Arturo knew it was his anger causing him to commit such a terrorizing act against the one he loved so dearly, but she had to learn a lesson.

Maybe a bit of loneliness was what she needed.

Nisha hugged her knees to her chest, crying into her thin dress at her demise. How could Arturo be so cruel to her? All because she didn't want to kiss him?

Would this be her life from now on? To give in to his every whim or fear a grave punishment?

The draft entering the bare room caused her body to shiver. She rocked back and forth, trying to make some heat.

The last time she was in the cottage, it was with her father. They had breakfast that morning, and all was well.

She remembered when he kissed her forehead goodbye as he went off to his day. There wasn't any doubt during that time that her father would come home that evening.

_God, where is he? Why would my father abandon me here? How could he betray me like this? Doesn't he love me anymore?_

The tears never ceased, and the sobs grew in volume. For hours on end, Nisha's body grew tired from the crying, but it never stopped. She laid down on the mattress, sniffling as she watched the snowfall this lonely night.

The winds howled as the snow pattered on the window, crystalizing in a pretty pattern while blurring the view of Gasparini's lonesome mansion.

The only thing she wanted more than anything else was her father's warmth, his love, and reassuring words that she would be alright.

She turned her head, remembering how she would run to his room on nights like this, where he would be warm and petted her curls as she fell asleep.

Tired legs got up slowly, opening the door and walking to the other side.

Her father's room did not change a bit. It was still neat with all his belongings in place.

The sheets were gone, but his pillow was still there.

On the bedside, there was the leather Bible he would keep close to his heart.

Running to the bed, the sobs grew as she laid on his bed, hugging the pillow, imagining it was her father hugging her.

"Daddy? Won't you come back for me?"

She kept crying, wailing as Nisha did her best to process her situation.

It was never meant to be so harrowing. Nisha was never meant to go through this alone. She was supposed to be studying for finals in England, getting ready for the holidays with Theo in tow, teasing her about not getting the gift she wanted.

With all her might, she squeezed the pillow she held close.

She saw his sea-green eyes looking at her with love, and his kind smile always welcoming her timid form. He would always reassure her that it would all be okay in the end, that her fear and trouble will be but for a short time.

Thinking that it was her father next to her and not an abandoned pillow, Nisha's heart began to calm, giving her a chance to cease her crying.

Her watery gaze looked upon his night table, recognizing the one thing her father would always tell her to look to when difficult times were at hand.

Wiping her tears, the young girl sat up and grabbed the Bible from the stand. Without putting much thought, her fingers opened to a random page she secretly prayed would help guide her.

**In my distress I called upon the Lord, and cried unto my God: he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even into his ears.**

Reading the verse, her sobs grew in measure as she held the sacred book close to her heart.

Her father told her that God listens, even if He is silent, her prayers would not go to deaf ears.

"God, p-please help me. I know not why this is all happening to me, but please, let there be a way out. Please let my father come back home and we leave this wretched place. Protect me from Arturo's evil devices against me. Whatever he has in store, let it all crumble and fall. I-I ask in the name of Your Son and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen."

Even though she was still alone in the cold room, saying the prayer gave her some comfort. All by herself, Nisha knew the only place to look for help was up into the heavens. Her crying ceased, believing with all her heart that her father would come back, if not now then soon, and no matter what Arturo would put her through, his plans will not unfold for his benefit.

God watches out for His own. Even though they would have to go through the brimstone and fire for a time, it would all work out for the glory of God.

Nisha hoped her father's words were right.

In a matter of minutes, her small shivering body went into resting mode. She had dreams that her father came back with open arms. A toddler Nisha ran into his arms, her heart filling with his love for her.

There was no good to come from this. Both Nisha and Arturo would suffer in their own way from tonight.

Neither was ready for what life had in store for them.

Late the next day, Nisha awoke to the warmth of Arturo's home. It wasn't of her own will, as she felt wet licks on her face. Turning her head a bit, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes to watch Bo ponce on her.

Despite all the bad she endured the night before, the young girl couldn't contain her smile with her loyal friend back in her arms.

At least he was alright.

Sitting up, she took in her surroundings. Her body was on his plush couch, covered in blankets Her head was pounding from all the crying she did the night before.

Not having a clue of how she got the be there, all she wanted was to be left alone for the day, but she knew if Arturo found her awake, he might not be so merciful.

Nisha scratched her pet's ear, watchful eyes looking at all ends of the home. Although she could not see him, she knew his presence was nearby. Stretching her body, Nisha yawned before folding the blankets, taking careful steps up to her room. She wasn't hungry and had no desire to eat for a while.

She never noticed the heavy gaze of cornflower eyes watching her from afar. A frown was on ruby lips, watching the young girl becoming oblivious to the changes last night brought.

In her room, Nisha sat by her desk, watching out the window covered in snow. She didn't want to see Arturo now, questioning what would happen if he saw her again.

All she could do was send a prayer from the depths of her heart, asking for all to be revealed and to be set free from this treacherous man.

~~~

The bright lights shone on the stage, moving about to get the right angle. Nisha covered her face, hit with a wave of nausea as many people moved around her.

There was only one more day before the final production of the Christmas play. Arturo was grinding into everyone about the nitty-gritty details. There were several last-minute script changes, and he was quick to express his temper towards any accident.

It didn't help that Arturo made a point of giving her the cold shoulder at home too. Ever since the night he threw her into the cold cottage, he made no efforts to have a civil conversation with her unless it was to bark a demand at her.

He made a point to yell at her more than the other actors when she messed up a line or misstepped.

It didn't help that Nisha felt weak. It was a struggle for her to walk without feeling heavy. Her body felt out of place, and her throat started to feel sore. There was a chance she was getting sick, but it could also just be Arturo pushing her to the edge.

Whenever she had a small break (which was also rare), she would sit in her chair and catch some sleep. It was the only way to ensure she would have some energy.

All she wanted was a hot cup of tea to soothe her insides and finally sleep after a long day.

The production crew noticed the young girl's discomfort, pleading with their director to give her a break. Unnerved by their compassion towards her, Arturo would either ignore them or grunt, finding some new to fix in the final practices.

Cornflower eyes watched in annoyance as Nisha walked to her spot in slow steps.

"You need to move a bit faster, Nisha! We don't have all day here."

He crossed his leg, leaning his head on his hand as he scrutinizes her posture.

"Stand straight! Mary was pregnant, not a hunchback!"

Her ears pained as she swallowed a retort, doing as he asked. If anything went wrong tomorrow, there was no doubt that he would pin all the blame on her.

Teeth gritted together as he found something to say about her performance. She did all she could to hold tears back, but it was hard. It wouldn't make sense to cry about it now.

Just one more day, and then she would be free from this.

In the beginning, being part of the play was fun, but at a quick pace, it wasn't child's play anymore. No amateur production Nisha participated in school could've prepared her for real life.

The only thing driving her to not succumb to her sickly state was Arturo's words a week before.

It was either she fights through this or left to obscurity as someone's housewife.

She played the role the best she could, praying that the next two days would pass by quickly.

When they were driving back to Arturo's home, he didn't spare her a glance as he spoke about all he wanted her to do before the final performance.

"We'll have to work tonight to make it perfect. The play will be performed for national leaders, don't forget, Nisha. This story is old but has so much importance in our society. I am depending on you to do your best."

All the young girl could manage to do was nod. Her throat was raw from all the talking, and if she wanted any type of voice to use tomorrow, resting her vocal cords was the wisest choice.

"Nisha, I need you to give me verbal answers."

"I will try" Her soft voice came out hoarse. Her nimble fingers went to soothe her throat as the pain became too great. Out of habit, she swallowed, but it proved to be a mistake as she winced.

"What's wrong with you?"

"My throat is just a little sore."

The silence consumed them once again. Arturo's mind ran through all the errands he needed to do before the performance. His nerves were getting to him.

Bitter about her refusal to him last week, Arturo did not give Nisha a second glance as she croaked while heading into the kitchen.

He would usually do all his work in the office, but time was of the essence. It was getting late, and with everything close at hand, he knew sleep would abandon him.

He didn't glance as she went to put on the kettle for how water. He didn't glance as she sat at the other side of the kitchen table and didn't glance as she rested her head.

It was hard to notice her pain while he was preoccupied with his troubles.

Nisha's state became a bit clearer when the kettle went off for five minutes straight, and she didn't make a move to turn it out.

His short fuse made it an instinct for him to yell at her, but Arturo instead went towards her after taking off the boiling water.

She was fast asleep in that uncomfortable position.

The petty part of him said to leave her there and let her suffer, but the director side of him knew it would be unwise. If she was unable to perform to her best abilities tomorrow, it would be all his fault.

Taking this into consideration, he carried her to her room.

Her skin was warmer than usual.

Maybe she was a bit more than overworked. The young man forced himself not to look anymore into it, or else he knew it would've been his fault that she's sick.

He was the one who wanted to teach her a lesson, leaving her alone and cold that night in the abandoned cottage.

Arturo remembered when he first went to retrieve her after a couple of hours of feeling bad. She looked like a frozen angel, in her father's room of all places. Common sense would've indicated that was the obvious place for her to run when in trouble, but the carnal side to him said this was not the case. Nisha was resistant to him, and no matter how well he treated her, she would never find it good enough.

He wanted to move slowly, making her the perfect woman for him, but if she was going to fight him at every turn, maybe it would be best to try a different method.

Arturo was thankful Nisha was light (or he was probably stronger than he then he first thought), carrying her in his arms so she wouldn't wake up with a sore neck.

Through his silk shirt, he felt how hot her head was against his chest.

He paid more attention, seeing that she was breathing through her mouth and not her nose. There was a layer of sweat on her skin. The concerns from others about Nisha's health flew back in his ears.

Guilt seeped into his heart at the notion of his actions, causing the young girl to be in this state. He needed her to be her best tomorrow, and by the looks of it, there was a slim chance if he didn't do something right now.

Resting her on his bed, Arturo went back and forth to his master bathroom, getting supplies. He needed to lower her body temperature first. He had two washcloths, one he put on her head and the other he had in his hand.

He opened the first two buttons of her dress, using the cloth to wipe her skin and cool her body. Her head began to turn a little as she mewled in discomfort.

"Shh, shh. It's alright. We need to get you better for tomorrow."

He bent over her body, stroking her temple soothingly as he kept unbuttoning her dress.

His mind was not focused on evil intentions. Even if this would be his only time having Nisha completely helpless, Arturo only wanted her to get better.

It was purely clinical at this point.

He retrieved some vapor rub and applied it to her chest and neck. Plumping the pillows behind her, Arturo made sure she was breathing a little better before calling it a night himself. He could only pray it would be enough to allow her to perform tomorrow.

Everything was riding on it.

He fell asleep on her stomach, finding the soft skin and somewhat even breathing calming enough to ease him into resting mode.

When he woke up the next morning, Arturo made efforts to ensure Nisha would have enough strength. Hot tea and a roll would have to suffice for now, but it was better than nothing.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty."

Cognac eyes struggled to open. Her entire body was sore. Nisha knew she was sick, but there was little for her to do about it.

Arturo was in front of her, holding a steaming hot cup and a plate of food.

Putting it down on his nightstand, the older male helped her sit upon his bed, giving her the tea.

"It looks like someone is a bit under the weather. Today is the big day, so let's just get you ready, and I promise after it's finished, you can rest for as long as you like, hm?"

Her head hurt as she tried to nod. With little strength left in her limbs, Arturo helped to bring the tea to her lips. The hot liquid gave her comfort running down her throat.

Getting ready for the event of the holiday season, Arturo took his time caring for his bunny. He dolled her up for the night. For once, Nisha made no complaints as he helped to wash her off in a hot bath.

If she were well enough, Nisha would've to express her surprise at Arturo's lack of leering and determination to help her out.

It was a complete change to his cold treatment before, and if she thought deeply about it, this time was the first Arturo proved himself to be a good person.

Yes, it was all for the sake of the show going well, but her heart warmed a little seeing him trying his best.

She felt like a kid again as he wrapped her in a thick towel, drying off her body and hair. This must be what Bo feels like whenever she would wash him off.

Arturo dressed her the way he desired, to the point of fixing her hair perfectly under the scarf she wore to fulfill the role of Mary.

Just as Joseph did for his wife, Arturo did his all to ensure Nisha was comfortable during this anxious time.

With some time to spare, Arturo quickly cleaned up. He shaved his beard and dressed to the nines in a well-fitted black tuxedo.

The drive to the theatre was silent but not uncomfortable.

All of Arturo's lack of support the last few days all came out in the last twenty minutes before the curtains open. He kept his hands on her shoulders, watching her through the mirror while giving her encouraging words.

"You're going to be perfect. You know the role, Nisha. You are Mary. Don't think about how your body feels. Think about the role. Mary was also in a crisis, and she made it through. I promise you will get rest when it's over. I know you're going to be great."

The young girl only nodded towards the words, appreciating his last-minute efforts trying to calm her down.

Before he left to join the audience, Arturo kissed her temple.

"I'll be right here, Nisha. If you get scared or feel like faltering, just look at me."

He rushed out to the front, ready to greet the Prime Minister and other leaders.

Nisha's fingers pressed harshly on the vanity before her.

She could do this.

Just pretend it was like one of her school plays.

Closing her eyes, she pictured her father in the crowd, always smiling and giving a wave in support. He would always be there to bring her comfort.

It took quite some energy for her not to cry. Now wasn't the time to worry about that. She knew her father was with her in spirit, and that would have to do for now.

"Nisha, È ora che lo spettacolo abbia inizio!"

Turning her head to the assistant director, the young girl nodded, trying to give a small smile. Looking at her reflection one last time, she shed the last bit of herself before going into the midset of Mary.

Let the show begin.

~~~

All were happy at the end of the night.

The play went over well.

Better than well.

After the last scene, there was a standing ovation that lasted well after the curtain call. Roses were thrown on the stage, and one of the stage assistants gave a bouquet of roses to the leading lady.

Nisha did her best to smile at the success. It was over with now, and she couldn't be happier about it. Her body was worse for wear for the moment, but she knew the night was far from over.

As soon as she slowly walked backstage, Arturo rushed up to her.

"My darling! You were splendid. I knew you wouldn't let me down!" He gave her paling cheek a quick kiss, too elated with the praise from all who saw the play.

"Come, you must meet everyone! They all have nothing but kind words for you."

He pushed her frail body towards the audience, all of who were up and speaking to one another.

The first stop was the guest of honor himself.

"Ahh, ciao! Ecco la bella Maria in carne. Hai fatto un lavoro meraviglioso. La nostra santa patrona sarebbe lieta che una ragazza così talentuosa incarnasse così bene la sua storia." The Prime Minister's voice was as robust as his figure. He looked at Nisha with kind eyes a grandfather would have.

Nisha was glad that Arturo pushed forward by teaching her enough Italian to converse with others. She was a quick learner, so it wasn't a problem, but it was worth so much more understanding the compliments for herself.

"Grazie, Primo Ministro, per le sue gentili parole. Sono onorato dal confronto, ma non sono Mary. È stato un onore esibirmi per lei e per il suo ospite." While her pronunciation was not perfect yet, it seemed to impress the jovial man before her.

"Perché sei una donna di talento! Tienila, Gasparini. Le ragazze come lei sono difficili da trovare."

A pink hue covered her pale cheeks, making her look somewhat healthy again.

Proud Arturo held her close, giving her arm an encouraging squeeze.

"Grazie. Ho tutte le intenzioni di tenerla vicina."

Maybe Nisha didn't hear his words correctly. What did he mean by that?

Keeping her close?

But, she wasn't fluent yet, so her broken translation could be wrong.

There wasn't much time to think as Nisha was tugged in another direction. Arturo would've stood with her to hear the next set of praise sent his star's way, but Bernardo interrupted and said he was needed for a quick backstage mishap.

Cornflower eyes gave a glance Nisha's way, but there wasn't much choice left. He trusted her enough for now.

"Ahh, so here's the girl of the hour! So good to see one of ours spread her wings. You're doing England proud, Miss Knight. Your father must be proud." Her hands clasped together as she took in the words Prime Minister Attlee said. She felt joy hearing her nation's leader praise her, but did he know where her father was.

"Thank you, Prime Minister Attlee. I am so glad to hear you enjoyed it. Have you seen my father? It's been so long, and I just want to know he's doing okay."

Confusion crossed the leader's features, "What do you mean? Isn't he here?" Attlee turned his head.

"He's been missing for the last month...."

How was it no one knew about her father's missing status?

"Don't worry, my girl. I promise I will get to the bottom of this. Your father is a good man, one of my best men."

Thick brows furrowed together as Attlee watched Vincenzo Gasparini at the other end of the room, in his world speaking to another socialite.

"For now, we will just keep this between us. I will find a way to keep you updated, but I promise on the Queen's crown that I will not rest until we find your father ." He patted her shoulders, giving her a quick smile to ensure his words were true.

All Nisha could do was give a small smile. If there was anyone she knew to trust, it was her Prime Minister. He had her father's best interest being a fellow Englishman and for the people.

In the nick of time, Arturo was right back to her side.

"Swell job, Gasparini. I applaud your work and choice of actors. I hope one day you would grace our stage in England. It would be an honor."

Arturo gave a full smile, thanking the great leader. As he pulled Nisha away again, she saw the wink from Attlee, allowing her to give a secret smile.

God was answering her prayers.

Several more leaders and socialites praised the young girl, and by the minute, she couldn't help but feel a bit weaker in strength.

"Nisha, my doll! You were just wonderful." Red lipstick-stained both cheeks as Silvana embraced the young girl.

Nisha was so happy to see Madame Guiliani once again and with open arms too.

Cognac eyes shifted right, her cheeks rising in color. Marco came along with his mother, wearing a neat tuxedo and a quaint smile.

He grew a mustache since she last saw him. It was quite dashing on him.

"Thank you, Madame Guiliani."

"Call me Silvana, I insist! I wish Mary wore something more fashionable, but I should not speak any bad of her. Father, forgive my callous words. I am so happy to see you again. How are you?"

It was the first time since her father's disappearance, Nisha giggled. She never expected Silvana to have such character, remembering how poised she was the last time. Marco also laughed at his mother's exuberance.

"I am doing good now that the play is over. I can hopefully rest and finally have a day to study something other than a script."

"I thought you would be in England right now if I am frank."

"I did too, but my father had to prolong his stay...Arturo became my teacher for the time being." Dark eyes were suddenly full of concern hearing the latter's response.

"Him? What does he know of academics?" Anger was quick to rise in her gut, but it would be of no use. With Gasparini holding so much power, little could be done about it.

"Nisha, how is your head?" Her movements were slow, turning her head to pay attention to the handsome doctor.

"It is better, thank you. I think I am catching a cold, though. Yesterday, my throat was a bit sore. Ears were ringing. It's been a hard last couple of days." She tried to keep her happy demeanor, but the cracks were starting to show.

The room started to turn a bit. Suddenly, Silvana and Marco became blurry images before her.

"-sha? Nisha!"

She was out of it before her body could hit the floor.

~~~

When Nisha finally came to, she had no clue how much time had passed. Her body felt heavy, with thick blankets consuming her. Her eyes first saw Bo lying at the bottom of her bed.

She felt much better than before, having no problem pushing herself up and out of the bed. Her clothes drenched in sweat and curls were matted down.

Having energy, she walked out of the room and down the stairs, looking for Arturo.

The halls were filled with Christmas decorations. A large Christmas tree over ten feet high in the middle of his living room. The reds and greens were in contrast with the regal aesthetic of the Greek-statued mansion.

Gold would've been a better route to go.

Feet pattered into the kitchen, the sight of golden curls moving about with several hot pots and pans bubbling on the stove. There wasn't a mess, but Arturo did run about the kitchen, towel over his shoulder.

He didn't take notice of Nisha's waking from behind him, startled seeing her watching him with wide eyes.

He swore he left her sleeping just a few moments ago.

"Nisha! I thought you were sleeping? Sit down. You need to take it easy." He gently brought her to the table, sitting her down and crouching by her side.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Umm, I remember the play and speaking to people. I remember speaking to Madame Guiliani a bit..."

"Nisha, you've been out for the past four days. You had a high fever and were in and out of it. Dr.Guilani caught you. Thankfully, there aren't any injuries from your fall. I'm happy you're awake now." He hugged her sweaty body, not caring for the moment about her imperfections. It all drew Arturo more towards the young girl.

He had never been more scared in his life than the moment she fainted after the play that night. Seeing her fall into the doctor's arms caused the room to still around him. It was an out-of-body experience when Nisha was not waking up.

Arturo cared for her non-stop, waiting for her to have full health once again. Guiliani said her fever was bad, adding her overexerted body was trying to restore the depleted energy.

Regret riddled over his mind, wondering now if the successful play was worth this? He never meant for her to get so sick, and the thoughts of losing her...

It brought him back to his childhood.

He never wanted to face such loss again.

"Are you feeling better?" Cornflower eyes watched the open expression in her cognac gaze. His heart exploded with joy seeing her pretty eyes again.

"I am. I'm sorry, I didn't know I was that out of it."

"No, don't be sorry. If anything, I am sorry. I was immature and did not care for you the way I needed to. Forgive me, Nisha. I have done you a great disservice, and I understand if you are upset with me."

Nisha watched his mournful eyes. He was sorry about what he went through. There was a bitter feeling in the pit of her stomach. He chose to apologize for overworking her instead of his actions that caused it.

And his constant attempts of assault.

Still, at least he felt guilt for something. Nisha didn't want to face his wrath again, not for a long time.

Seeing her subtle nod, a smile emerged on his face, hugging her tightly.

"Why don't you clean up a little? I'll have lunch ready soon. And a surprise after."

Her brows furrowed hearing his words.

What surprise could he have waiting for her?

~

Nisha moaned, feeling the hot water warming her body, taking the few moments alone to bask in all that had happened.

In the banks of her memories, Prime Minister Attlee came to mind. She remembered the shock when she mentioned her father missing.

Didn't Arturo say before that they would be looking for her father from the beginning? How was it her father's boss knew nothing about his status?

Shivers went down her spine despite the scorching water surrounding her.

What was happening? Where was her father?

Who was looking for him?

Tears prickled her pretty eyes, realization hitting her that her father may be gone forever. Nisha didn't want to accept the worst fate as fact, but it was hard not to.

Ever since she came to Italy, there was nothing but unfortunate events thrown in her way.

Well, it was long before she came to Italy, but she always thought it was due to her circumstances of race and her shy demeanor.

Nisha was never one who looked for trouble, but it always managed to find her.

She remembered what Maria told her once, "You're just unlucky, bunny. Some people attract drama like a moth to a flame without having to do anything. It seems like you're one of them."

Nisha remembered the deep hurt she felt. Maria wasn't being mean in the statement, but the blunt truth in the matter scorched her heart. She remembered, for several days she didn't do anything, opting to stay in her room with her broken hand and sleep.

Why was she that person. What cruel fate was this?

The young girl was sobbing at her demise. It still stood true. Here she was now, without her father, left with a man who had no good intentions for her.

She was truly alone now.

The only one who loved her was gone.

She couldn't even say goodbye or how much she loved him.

There was nothing for her to look forward to in life now. Hands went to her throat, clasping around it tightly.

If she was gone, no one would know. No one would care.

Nisha's body sank into the bathtub, her hair floating around her. Gray dots came into her vision.

Fingers tightened around her throat, allowing the water to enter her orifices.

All she wanted was a quick end, so she wouldn't have to face life's troubles any longer.

As her vision began to blur and her lungs ready to give out, something came into the water.

A hand came into the water.

Not able to stop it, the hand pulled her body up.

Water filled her ears as she coughed up a storm. Hair covered her entire upper body as the water slushed onto the marble floor.

Wiping her eyes, she looked around to see where Arturo went.

But the door was locked, just like she left it.

Her body trembled, not sure what had happened.

She was so sure it was all going to end.

A perpetual frown painted on her lips.

She couldn't even do that right.

Silent tears ran down her face, accepting defeat once again as she got out of the tub and cleaned up the mess she made.

Now, she had no choice but to go down and join Arturo.

~

After her bath, she wore a green turtleneck and brown plaid high-waisted skirt. Her curls were bouncy again as she combed the tangles out a little.

Heading back downstairs, she did her best to smile at Arturo, who sat down at the dining table with two steaming hot plates. Nisha hoped her eyes weren't too red. The last thing she needed was for him to question what was wrong.

If he ever found out, she would never be allowed a moment alone again.

Her stomach growled when the savory smell hit her senses.

She forced herself to see the bright side of it. At least she could have a warm meal?

It would have to do for now.

~

Arturo wasn't lying about the surprise. While she did miss Christmas day being sick, he did his best to bring the holiday to her days later.

He sang some carols with her and spoke of Christmas traditions he would celebrate as a child. They took some time to make desserts, and finally, open some gifts.

Most were for Nisha, receiving presents mostly from Arturo's family.

Valentina got her some pretty dresses and makeup to practice. Arturo took the makeup, claiming Nisha's natural beauty could not be enhanced by artificial goods.

Gino and Elena made paper cards full of glitter with pictures of trees and Santa. The young girl smiled at the thought put into their works. She was going to keep it in her room.

Even Silvana sent Nisha a gift. It was a big creme box wrapped in a white bow. The packaging alone was too pretty for Nisha to open. Taking her time, cognac eyes widened in amazement, seeing the beautiful gift before her.

It was a pretty black dress, glitter all over. Pulling it out, Nisha held it over her clothes, giving a light twirl.

"It's perfect for the New Year's Eve gala in a couple of days."

"Hmm?" She gave an absent-minded glance Arturo's way.

"Next week, my father will be hosting a gala in a few days, a black and white tie event. This dress is perfect for you to wear, and I will match with my outfit."

Did she have to go? The last thing Nisha wanted was to be in a large room full of strangers.

Seeing the excitement in his cornflower eyes, she knew saying no would not please him.

After putting the dress away, Arturo started to give Nisha all the gifts he bought for her.

Many were dresses he thought she would look pretty in.

"You must try them on for me later."

Ick ran down her spine at the thought of giving him a private show. Just what she needed.

There were also several pieces of jewelry and perfume. Nisha thanked him for all the gifts, but Arturo said there was one more gift.

There was one more box left, a familiar gift box.

With tentative fingers, Nisha opened the box.

She froze, seeing what was inside.

It was the doll from her birthday.

"I thought this would be the most appropriate time to give it back to you."

Memories of what happened that night ran through her mind. It was the first time Arturo attacked her with full force, his evil bearing fruit.

The doll was so beautiful, but the memories that came with it weren't.

"Don't you like it?"

Shaking herself back to reality, she looked into his open gaze, nodding.

"O-Of course I do. Thank you. I did miss looking at her."

Placing the doll back in the box, Nisha wrung her hands together.

"The gifts were lovely. I'm sorry I don't have anything for you. I-If I had more time, then maybe...but I don't even know what you like or anything so..."

Arturo gave a charismatic laugh, "Don't be silly, _coniglietto._ Your well-being and presence are more than enough for me. Thank you for being yourself. I am a lucky man to have the privilege to know you and be graced with your beauty. Thank you for bringing joy into my life."

A deep blush was prominent on Nisha's cheeks. She had no words for his statement. She didn't know if he was only saying that to reel her in or if he genuine.

The room was silent, cornflower eyes staring at the shy girl.

"Merry Christmas, Nisha."

He kissed her cheek, giving her a long hug.

Nisha blinked away her tears.

Despite given such extravagant gifts, without her father, it was the worst Christmas ever.

It was anything but a merry time for her.

~~~  
  


"Darling, you look absolutely stunning!"

A pleasant smile painted on Nisha's red lips accepting the compliment, "Thank you very much."

"Who made this piece?"

"Madame Guiliani" The stranger nodded, giving one more smile before moving onto the next person.

Mayor Gasparini's mansion was bustling with many strangers, all of who were probably business associates and other socialites, congregating together drinking champagne and talking pleasantries.

Nisha felt the walls closing in on her. Arturo left her alone over an hour ago, getting lost in the crowd of people. Albeit her distaste for him, he was the best option instead of being alone in the room of unrecognizable faces. Valentina was being a gracious hostess greeting all her guests, and the toddlers were asleep in their rooms. She would've sneaked there, but she was sure them waking up would not be welcomed by their parents.

Already in a fragile mindset for the events of the past couple of weeks, she knew it would only take a few more small conversations with a strange adult before she broke down. She couldn't afford to give into her anxiety yet.

Her stomach churned as she moved along the invisible path towards the refreshments table.

Food was always her go-to at any party.

The porcelain plate trembled in her hand as she picked up some tiny desserts to sweeten her tastebuds. One became two and soon turned into many more delicacies eaten. Without any dinner plans, this would have to do.

"You might end up having a stomach ache if you eat any more."

Her mouth stuffed with an eclair (courtesy of a famous French chef the mayor knew), Nisha watched with embarrassed eyes the form of the tall, handsome doctor.

Her cheeks turned red, watching his kind eyes.

She wiped the cream filling off her lips with the back of her hand, smudging her lipstick.

Marco smiled at her innocent demeanor. He was starting to understand a bit more of his mother's fascination towards the young girl. She was endearing.

"As I doctor, I must recommend that you should not have so much sugar. It would only make you feel sick in the end. There is something like having too many sweets, unfortunately."

She gave a crooked smile, still unable to come up with a response. The doctor wore wearing a trim-fit black tuxedo. Brown waves tousled perfectly to frame his face.

"I'll try not to. I was really hungry."

He laughed at her feeble excuse, walking closer to her with a napkin at hand. Unlike Arturo, Nisha didn't feel scared with Doctor Guiliani's presence. He wiped the remaining cream on her lips, taking time to make sure her lipstick wouldn't mess up. There was also a bit on the top of her nose.

Finally, he took her messy hand in his, wiping her sticky fingers.

"That should make it all better now, wouldn't you say so?"

"I do."

Dark eyes quickly scanned the noisy room.

"Are you here alone?"

"No, Mr.Gasparini brought me. He left a while ago to speak with other people."

"That was careless of him, leaving you alone to fend for yourself."

Her heart warmed hearing Marco's words. He understood her pain.

"Since he's long gone, would you care to dance?"

Cognac eyes stared straight into his brown ones, her small hands reaching out for his immediately.

The music from the live band started to slow down. A waltz was going to start. Nisha never took her eyes off the doctor, the blush permanent on her face. He kept his kind smile, both twirling around the room.

For the first time, a flower bloomed in her heart.

The room around her became dark, a light shining just for them.

Nisha became enamored by Marco, who was nothing short of kind to her. They kept spinning all around the room, and for that time, she forgot all about her worries.

Looking into his brown eyes, she forgot about all the cares in the world, just him.

But alas, all good things would come to an end.

It wasn't that the song stopped, but rather a dark knight came to disrupt.

"Excuse me, but I think it's time I step in."

Nisha watched Marco turn his head towards the third party, his lips frowning at the sight.

It took her a moment, but she too turned her dazed head.

It was Arturo.

He had a closed smile on his ruby lips, but his eyes hid the anger sprouting in him.

He only left her alone for a few moments (at least it only felt like that with how fast everything was going).

How was it whenever he wasn't around, his _coniglietto_ always found herself in another man's arms?

Being the cordial man, Marco complied. Sending one last look Nisha's way, he gave her a small bow before turning to the young director, "Of course. I only wanted to keep her company. If you excuse me."

Just as he appeared, the handsome doctor vanished into the crowd.

It took all her strength not to look for him instead of turning her head towards the cornflower eyes staring straight into her soul.

The anxiety came flooding back.

"It's a bit crowded in here. How about we go outside for some fresh air?"

She watched his hand open for her to take, but there was hesitance to hold it.

"What? Are you suddenly afraid?"

"No. You're right. It'll be good to get some fresh air." She gave him her hand. Arturo led her to the outside balcony on the second floor.

It was a beautiful view, seeing the entire garden from above. The flowers were in place, and bushes trimmed neatly. The night sky was clear, stars twinkling, matching the sparkles on her black dress.

Arturo took a moment to stare at Nisha in her dress. It was off the shoulder, the bodice holding her tightly before flaring out. She was beyond glamourous in his eyes, wanting nothing more than to keep her for himself.

"What do you think of the gala so far?"

"It's nice. Very busy."

He frowned at her incomplete response. "But, are you enjoying yourself?"

"I think so far I did a little."

He didn't like the response.

"Well, prepare for your night to get better!"

He twirled her around the balcony, not worried about anyone else seeing.

Everyone was getting ready for the clock to strike midnight.

"Put me down!"

"No! You never dance with me by choice, so I have to do this instead."

"Please, put me down."

There was brokenness in her tone, ceasing Arturo from his happy moment.

Maybe he was pushing her too far.

Nisha held onto her stomach, leaning onto the balcony.

Marco was right. Eating too much sugar was taking a terrible effect on her.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just a little woozy."

Arturo held onto her shoulders, turning his darling to face him. Her pretty face watched him with surprise.

A rueful smile was on his face, his heart soaring, watching her mature before him.

On cue, he heard the countdown.

His hands fastened around her shapely waist, pulling her close.

"Happy New Year, Nisha."

Fireworks danced in the air, reds, and blues twinkling in the sky.

Many cheered as the year began all over.

Nisha was pulled into a chasten kiss with Arturo.

His eyes were closed, giving his all into the romantic gesture.

She didn't fight him off, but her hands went limp.

Arturo bent her over, forcing her to concentrate and hold onto his neck.

The kiss went on for a long time, and Nisha did try to pull herself away.

She didn't want this, but fighting Arturo was futile.

When he was good and ready, Arturo finally released her.

He watched as the young girl moved several feet away from him, her eyes flashing fear as her chest rose in quick breaths.

Without notice, she ran off into the party.

Nisha didn't cry at his kiss. She just wished it was someone else.

Someone kinder.

Someone who made her smile and not cower.

Before exiting the house, she saw Marco's figure. His eyes met her, concern on his face. Before having a chance to reach her, the young doctor watched as she ran away.

He saw Arturo going right behind her.

Anger fueled his blood.

Marco wished he could do something more, but he knew he was powerless against the Gasparinis.

His heart sank, remembering her sad face.

Marco promised himself no matter what it took he would save her from Arturo's perilous ways.

~~~

The ride home was quiet. Nisha kept her eyes outside the window as Arturo hummed the Auld Lang Syne.

Nisha had no words after the kiss. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Why did he have to do that?

Was it because she danced with Marco?

She hated that he was trying to claim her as his own.

She wasn't a trophy to be won.

When they entered the mansion, Arturo took Nisha's coat. His movements were slow, sensual as he watched her exposed skin titillating him.

She was for his eyes only.

Her arms wrapped around her shoulders, feeling cold. Nisha tried to quickly to her room, hoping that the night finished for them.

But it was far from over.

"Nisha, come here."

His voice wasn't authoritarian but a calm beckoning. She turned to his soft voice, watching him walk closer as he unloosens his black bowtie. His face was somber, taking Nisha back in his arms.

"I want to talk to you about something important."

Arturo led her to the plush couch, both sitting down for the serious conversation.

He watched her dainty fingers for a moment before getting lost in her honey eyes.

"Nisha, when you were sick, I didn't know what to do with myself. I felt many emotions I never knew I was capable of. The guilt inside for allowing it to happen with my actions and working you too hard. When I saw you fall, I never felt my heart drop so fast. I was by your side night and day. I've never been so worried about anyone's well-being as I was for yours."

His fingers rub over her hand soothingly, not looking into her eyes any longer. It was a lot to admit this to anyone, let alone Nisha.

"What I am trying to say is I thought about what I would do if you were gone. The truth is, I don't know. Since I've first met you, Nisha, you have become nothing short of a blessing. I love your witty mind and how little you care about your appearance when others are around. I love your wild curls and vivacious eyes. I love everything about you. You are my muse. Nisha, I love you."

Nisha was silent, hearing his words. Her eyes began to fill with tears.

What did he mean by that?

Was this a joke?

Her mouth twisted, pulling herself away from his embrace. She got up, walking towards the dark fireplace. She paced back and forth, trying to think of the right thing to say.

This was not what she needed right now.

"You can't say that. Y-You, don't love me."

"Excuse me?" Arturo watched her with bewildered eyes, moving towards her.

"How can you say you love me? You don't know what love is, Arturo! If you loved me as you say, you would never treat me the way you do. You wouldn't touch me inappropriately, manipulate me. You wouldn't hurt me if you loved me."

She didn't cry. For the first time in months, she gained back her confidence fighting off Arturo.

"I do love you, Nisha. With all my being, soul, and mind. You consume me in a way I didn't know possible."

He pulled her in his arms again, hand on her cheek.

"Be mine, Nisha. I beg of you."

She watched his eyes.

He was serious.

This was a ludicrous situation.

"I will never be yours, Arturo. Not the way you want me to."

"You will be. Maybe not now, but one day you will."

They both stared at one another in the dimmed lights.

It was a silent war starting. Nisha, preserving herself, and Arturo doing his all to dismantle her armor.

For now, Arturo decided it would be best not to strip it off entirely yet, giving a bittersweet smile before letting her go.

He walked to the other side of the room, picking up a stack of papers.

"For now, I will accept your refusal in my hand. You are young and do not realize what you're doing. Instead, I will settle for this. Since I've met you, I had a renewed sense of writing a movie. This is the script. I want you to be my star. So, if you can't be mine at heart, will you be mine for this movie?"

Nisha eyes the set of papers.

"Can't you get anyone else to star?"

"Of course I could, but I want you."

The tension was high between them, the room heating up from Nisha's anger and Arturo's lust.

"I will, but only if you do one thing for me."

An eyebrow rose over expectant cornflower eyes.

"I want you to start teaching me again. Everything. Including maths and science. You are meant to be my teacher, and I will graduate at the end of this year. If you want me to star in your movie, you have to ensure I learn everything I need to."

His mouth twisted at her demand. Teaching her should not be much of an issue, but she didn't need to learn anymore. All she needed was to sit pretty and do as he wanted.

But, Arturo needed her to star in his movie. It was the only way it would work.

He would have to sacrifice a little to ensure greatness. Hopefully, with time his _coniglietto_ would bend to his will.

Nisha will soon see his love for her.

She will be his.

Mind, body, and soul.

It would just take a bit more time.

Inhaling a breath, he blinked before giving her his winning smile.

"Of course, my dear." Arturo kissed her temple.

"We'll start tomorrow." 


End file.
